


Not of Blood

by Guardian_of_Hope



Series: Not of Blood [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bard Magic, Gen, Teen Wolf mentions, Two types of werewolves, Wizard Clans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-02
Updated: 2015-03-19
Packaged: 2018-01-14 07:07:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 45,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1257373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guardian_of_Hope/pseuds/Guardian_of_Hope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry's fifth year is approaching and Harry isn't quite sure what he thinks of things. He's making new friends and learning a lot about himself, his family, and the Wizarding World along the way. Friendships will be strained and broken. The way of the world will be flipped upside down. The only thing Harry can count on will be that nothing is as it seems at Hogwarts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Video Killed The Radio Star

**Author's Note:**

> In Harry Potter and Music's Magic, I proposed the idea of Wizard clans that was very elaborate but too elaborate for the other aspects of the story. I decided that I wanted to use it in a different setting. As it comes up, I'll explain the different words I'll end up using related to the Wizard clans. Also, there are five OCs introduced in this chapter. They'll appear in a few more chapters before moving to the background as a reference. They're here for two reasons. As this story is canon compliant up until Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, the first reason is to alter an early event in OOTP. The second is to give Harry the push he needs to get things going in this story. Things this story include: Slash, magical gifts, Alternate Universe Events, and original characters. (Seven big players and assorted minor ones). I'm American and I don't exactly have a Brit-picker to help me out with things. If I misuse some wording, feel free to let me know. My inspiration for the musical skills scene here is a group called Pentatonix. If you don't know them, get on YouTube and look at their channel, PTXOfficial. They're amazing.

 

 

 

Number Four Privet Drive was a most unremarkable house in Little Whinging, Surrey. It was a good house, though. It rarely required maintenance, provided shelter for its inhabitants and never revealed the secrets contained in its walls. In short, it was the ideal house for anyone.

None of this could quite explain the angry glare directed at said house by its youngest inhabitant, a boy as remarkable as the house was not. From his gravity defying hair to his overly large and worn trainers, Harry James Potter was everything that did not belong at Number Four Privet Drive. Unless one counted the snowy owl in the smallest bedroom.

"What did that house ever do to you?"

Startled out of his litany of curses, Harry spun to find a girl about his age leaning against the sign for Privet Drive. She had curly brown hair pulled into a tail over her left ear, tight black pants and a huge white t-shirt with the Beatles printed on it.

"Sorry if I startled you," the girl continued with a friendly smile.

"It's all right," Harry said, half distracted by the sense of familiarity the girl's brown eyes invoked in his mind.

"I'm Lisa Miller," the girl said, "have you lived here long?"

"All my life," Harry replied, "I'm Harry Potter." How long had it been since Harry had needed to introduce himself anyway. Probably not since he was eleven.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Lisa said, "I thought I knew everyone around here. Most of us go to Stonewall anyways."

Harry nodded, "I don't actually go to Stonewall, though. I go to a boarding school in Scotland."

"Huh," Lisa said, "I knew Dursley went to Smeltings along with Polkiss, but given how my mum talks about the Dursleys, I didn't think they paid for you to go school."

"They don't," Harry said, thinking fast. "My father's family has gone to the same school for generations. I was enrolled before I was born and money was entrusted for the tuition."

"Sounds pretty fancy," Lisa said. "What are you up to anyways, besides trying to set that house on fire?"

Harry jolted slightly, "I'm not sure," he admitted. "I just wanted to get away."

"Well, I'm headed to meet some friends of mine," Lisa said, stepping away from the sign, "you can come with me if you want."

Harry hesitated and looked down at his watch. Vernon would be home soon, and he would not be in a good mood even if Harry's chores were done. "Sure, why not?"

"Great," Lisa said and started away from Privet Drive.

"What are you and your friends planning to do?" Harry asked as they walked, "I don't exactly have a lot of money."

Lisa grinned, "You happen to be addressing a member of the Surry Under-Sixteen A Cappella champion group. My friends and I are getting together to do a little practice, discuss the arrangement for the next round of competition and probably watch a movie."

"I won't be in the way?" Harry asked worriedly.

"Not a chance," Lisa replied. "We were talking last week about having an audience again. It helps us work out the bugs to have someone listening. I'm just taking advantage of running into you." She hesitated and gave him a sly grin, "Besides, you could have set that poor house on fire if I hadn't of stepped in."

"Nah," Harry said, smiling back, "Number Four's tougher than that. I should warn you, I don't know much about music, what is a cappella anyways?"

"That's ok," Lisa said cheerfully, "we'll teach you. First lesson, a cappella is about singing only. You use your voice to create the music, no instrument. We might clap or snap, but everything else is vocal."

"Cool," Harry said, "it sounds difficult."

"It's a lot of fun," Lisa replied, "except for having to remix all of our favorite songs so we can sing them. You'll understand when you hear us though."

Lisa turned up the walk of one of the houses and led Harry around to the garden gate. Before she could unlatch the gate, it burst open and another girl burst out. "Lisa," the girl exclaimed and hugged Lisa tightly.

"Jeez, Mal, you saw me yesterday," Lisa said.

"Ha," Mal said, stepping back. "You owe me five pounds, by the way. You're late."

"I won't pay  _your_  gambling debts, Mal," Lisa replied dryly. "Harry, this is Mallory, part of the group. Mal, this is Harry, I invited him to be our audience."

"Hi," Mal said and before Harry could react, she was hugging him too. "Call me Mal, everybody does. Aren't you the Dursely's other kid? You don't look like a Dursley. Is it true you go to St Brutus's Institute for Incurably Criminal Boys? Did you really climb the primary school like a jungle gym? Are you going to Stonewall now? Do you like to sing?"

"Whoa, Mal," Lisa said, pulling her friend back, "Calm down. Let's get in the garden before anyone else comes looking for us."

Harry followed Lisa and Mal into the back yard, where three boys were seated under an apple tree that was drooping in the heat wave. "Hey Lisa," one of the boys called, he had an odd accent that Harry couldn't quite place, but seemed familiar.

"Hey Chris," Lisa replied. "I brought us an audience," she added as they joined the others. "Harry, this is Otto, Tyler and Chris. Boys, this is Harry from over on Privet Drive. Now, I've been thinking about our choices for the next round and I think we'd be better served with something a little different. We've been hitting pretty hard with our early stuff, and I think picking something from the eighties might do a lot more for our chances than another Beatles song."

As one, the boys said, "Not that there's anything wrong with the Beatles."

Harry seated himself beside Lisa and watched them interact.

"Harry."

Harry jumped, surprised to find Lisa looking at him, "I'm sorry?" He said.

"I asked what you thought about Michael Jackson," Lisa said.

"I don't know much about him," Harry said. "Aunt Petunia doesn't care for that sort of music."

"You don't hear it at school?" One of the boys asked.

"No," Harry said, "my friends aren't big on music, actually. The team captain has a thing about radios, and it gets so loud in the common room, you wouldn't even notice if one was playing."

"That's a shame," the boy said, "I'm Otto, by the way. I'm the bass."

"I honestly don't know what that is," Harry admitted.

Otto grinned at him and took a deep breath. The sound that came out of his mouth, a simple "ah", was deeper than seemed possibly for a boy like him.

"Wow," Harry said.

"On that note," Lisa said, hesitating to let her friends groan, "We should start practicing. Let's start with Radio Star, then Come Together, and bring it home with Jack and Diane, just to see how it sounds. You can stay there, Harry," Lisa said as they all stood up.

The boy Harry thought must be Tyler stood to the front of the group with both girls just back on his left and the other two boys, Otto and Chris, on his right.

Chris winked at Harry, "One, two, three four," he said.

Whatever Harry had been expecting, the sounds that came out of the group was not it. He had always liked music, but between the Dursleys' dislike of most music, and the lack of variety on the Wizarding Wireless, Harry didn't get to listen to it much. This was so much more than the music he remembered hearing at the primary school.

He didn't recognize the song, but he could admire the talent and hard work behind it. Especially when Chris started letting go. Harry had heard beatboxing a few times, but it wasn't something that the students of Hogwarts concerned themselves with on a normal basis. The few examples of beat boxing he's heard, usually when Dudley's friends thought they were being clever, paled in comparison to what Chris was doing.

When it was over and they started the next one, Harry did recognize it. His aunt rarely listened to music, but she did like the Beatles, so he had heard this one on the radio every now and then. Usually when Vernon had taken Dudley somewhere and she wasn't going somewhere or having the ladies over for tea. This version wasn't what he remembered, but he did enjoy it, perhaps even more than Petunia's old record.

This time, Harry was cognizant enough to clap a few times, only to be cut off as they started the last song, 'Jack and Diane'.

This song, like the others, was wonderful. It had a different pace to it, and now Harry really noticed Otto's contributions. When he and Chris brought it home midway through the song, Harry laughed and clapped, because it was incredible. This was the sort of music he'd always wanted to hear.

When the songs finished, Harry clapped enthusiastically.

"I take it you liked it then," Chris said with a big grin.

"I did," Harry replied, "that was incredible. I wish my school had a music program now."

"Well, we could teach you a bit," Chris offered as they sat back down.

"I thought you had a competition coming up," Harry replied.

"Let's hear you sing, anyway," Lisa said.

Harry ducked his head, feeling his cheeks warm, "I don't know much about music."

"Well," Mal said, "do you know 'Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star?"

"Who doesn't?" Harry asked, and then looked at Chris in surprise as he realized they said the same thing at the same time. The dark skinned teen smiled back at him.

"Let's hear it then," Lisa said, catching Harry's attention.

"Right," Harry said. He closed his eyes for a moment, took a deep breath.

"Wait," Chris said.

"What?" Harry asked.

"You have to breathe right, silly," Mal said. "You breathe like that and you wouldn't make it through the first voice."

"How do I breathe then?" Harry asked, "Through my skin?"

They laughed. "No," Chris said, "with your diaphragm." He waved his hand at Lisa, "there are too many cooks in the kitchen, Lisa. Why don't you guys go see if my mom's got a snack trey together and get my keyboard. I'll show Harry how to breathe."

As the other four headed inside Chris shook his head, "They're good friends, but a little enthusiastic."

"If you say so," Harry replied. "May I ask where you are from?"

Chris laughed, "I'm from America, man. Now, when you sing, and really you should do this if you're at all athletic anyways, you don't breathe with your shoulders. There's a muscle between your lungs and stomach called the diaphragm, and you use that to regulate your breathing. Take another breath."

Harry did so.

"No, don't raise your shoulders," Chris said, he pressed on Harry's shoulder, "you want your belly to expand when you breathe. It's important, but it can be hard."

Harry took another breath, and this time he could feel his stomach expanding instead of his shoulders rising.

"Good job," Chris said. "The more you breathe that way, the better your breathing will be. You said you were on a team, what sport do you play?"

"Football," Harry said after a moment. "I'm a forward reserve."

"Football," Chris repeated, and shook his head, "In America we call it soccer. I'll try not to get it confused.

"Okay," Harry replied.

"Anyways, managing your breathing this way will make you better on the field too."

"All right," Lisa called as she emerged from the house carrying a long, black object. "Found the keyboard, and you need to clean your room. I think a bomb went off in there."

Chris laughed, "Nope, just a tornado."

Otto and Mal followed Lisa out with trays. "Your mother is an absolute Goddess," Otto announced as they approached. "This all looks delicious."

"My mother studied at the top culinary school in America," Chris replied, "Did you expect anything less than her best?"

"It's still amazing," Otto said.

Tyler finally came out of the house, "Sorry everyone," he said as he joined them.

"Now that we're all back, Harry," Lisa said as she handed out drinks, "let's hear it."

Harry blushed, closed his eyes, took a proper deep breath, and let himself sing. "Twinkle, twinkle, little star, how I wonder what you are. Up above the world so high, like a diamond in the sky. Twinkle, twinkle, little star, how I wonder what you are."

"Wow," Lisa said, "ok."

Harry looked at her, "What, it didn't sound that horrible."

"No," Lisa shook her head, "you've got a good voice. I just wasn't expecting your voice to sound like that."

Harry blushed, "I know. I sound like a girl."

"No you don't," Chris said, "you've got a higher range than most men, but you do not sing like a girl." He looked at Lisa, "Why don't you guys pick what songs we're doing while I teach Harry more of the basics. You already know my votes on the subject."

"All right," Lisa said, she turned to the others, "let's move over here so we won't be disturbed."

"But the food," Otto said.

"Take the tray," Chris said. He leaned over, snatched a couple of sandwiches and offered one to Harry. "We shouldn't eat much if we're going to be doing any kind of singing."

Harry took the sandwich, thinking of Dudley's diet. "Thank you," he said.

"Not a problem," Chris replied, "I like music, and you've got a really nice voice. Get some training and you'll be amazing." He pulled the black and white keyboard that Lisa had brought out into his lap. "This is a keyboard," he told Harry, "I use it to make sure I'm singing on tune sometimes. We'll worry about that in a bit though. What we're going to start with are the basics. We'll cover reading music later, but for right now we'll just play a bit of follow the leader. I don't have the higher range you probably do, but we'll do well enough for now."

"All right," Harry said.

"What we're going to do is I'll play a note on the piano and sing it. You try to make your voice like mine." Chris tapped the keyboard, making a variety of noises come out of it. "This will also tell us how your ear is. That's as important as having a good voice, especially if you're going to be in a group like ours."

Harry smiled at him, "Maybe I will be."

"Then let's start," Chris said. "This is a C."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs mentioned:
> 
> Video Killed The Radio Star by the Buggles  
> Come Together by the Beatles  
> Jack and Diane by John Mellencamp


	2. A Spoonful of Sugar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A innocent song has... interesting consequences.

Harry couldn’t get Chris’s music lesson out of his head as he did his chores the next day.  Chris had told him he had an excellent ear for music, and Harry wanted to learn more.  Unfortunately, he wouldn’t be able to meet up with Chris, Lisa, and the others until tomorrow because they had obligations of their own.  Instead, he kept his head down while Petunia bundled Dudley into the car for a shopping trip and took the laundry downstairs when the coast was clear.

As he rotated the laundry, Harry found himself humming a song from the movie they’d watched, Mary Poppins.

“Just a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down,” he sang distractedly, “medicine go down, medicine go down.”

There was an odd shushing sound, like of cloth sliding against cloth and Harry turned to find the basket of clean laundry was floating on air, as he stopped singing it dropped.  “That’s not normal,” Harry muttered.  He took a breath and began to sing again, “A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down, medicine go down, medicine go down, in the most delightful way.”

The basket shifted, and one of Dudley’s t-shirts floated up and began to fold itself.  Harry grinned as it settled on the dryer, properly folded.  _That’s actually kind of cool._   He thought, _I wonder how I did that._   He tried whistling the song, and the laundry jumped to fold itself.  Harry leaned against the washer and whistled, watching the laundry fold up and go back in the basket.  He picked up the basket and carried it upstairs, thinking of who might answer his questions without asking too many questions of their own.

Harry wished for a moment that his parents were still alive, because he knew they would understand.   _Sirius!_   He thought with a grin.  He’d wanted an excuse to write to Sirius for a week.  Harry put Dudley’s clothes away and headed for his room.

Harry slid into his seat, picked up a pen, and began to write.

_Dear Snuffles,_

_I hope everything is going well for you this summer.  I haven’t heard much, but I am hoping that no news is good news.  I have been trying not to think about last year much, but sometimes I have dreams about the graveyard.  I didn’t last night, which is a relief because three out of five times, I wake up the Dursleys with my nightmares.  Yesterday, I made some Muggle friends named Lisa, Chris, Mal, Otto, and Tyler.  They are singers in an a cappella group, which means they sing without instruments, it’s cool to listen to.  They’ve even started teaching me to do it._

_That’s why I was writing you.  I was doing some laundry today and thinking about a movie I watched with my friends called Mary Poppins.  In the movie, Mary Poppins sings a song called “A Spoonful of Sugar” while using magic to clean up a children’s nursery.  As I worked, I started singing the song… and the laundry started folding itself.  If this was Hogwarts or the Burrow, I wouldn’t be surprised, but this is number four Privet Drive, and there shouldn’t be magic here at all!_

_I think I enchanted my cousin’s clothes to fold themselves with my voice alone.  Is that something wizards can do?_

_Hoping you are safe and well_

_Harry Potter_

Harry read the letter over again and then rolled it up.  “Hedwig,” he said, turning to Hedwig’s cage.  “I need you to take this letter to Sirius.”  He tied the letter to her leg as she hooted at him softly.  “Wait for a reply,” he told her, “it’s important.”

Hedwig hooted again and launched herself into the air, swooping out the open window and vanishing.

Harry sighed, resigning himself to a few days of loneliness and headed downstairs to start the dishes.  Until he heard back from Sirius, he quietly resolved not to sing, hum, or whistle.  He didn’t want the next bout of magic to get him in trouble after all.

***

Remus slumped against the kitchen table, “Oh my God,” he whispered.

“Who would have thought,” Sirius said as he sat beside him.  “What’s the point of a house elf if it won’t do its job?”

“You got me,” Remus replied.  “That was terrifying.”

Sirius groaned, “Molly’s coming.  Act like you’re doing something.”  He reached out and collected a piece of silver from the stack in the center of the table and a polishing cloth.

“Does anyone in the house answer to _Snuffles?”_   Molly asked as she walked in, holding a letter.  Remus snorted softly.

“I do,” Sirius said.  “Harry calls me that.”

The look on Molly’s face made Remus think of one of their old DADA teachers, an older gentleman, the first time he’d overheard James’s rather loud reference to ‘Remus’s furry little problem.’  The man had stared at the four of them before saying half under his breath, “Part of me wants to ask, the other part says _knowing_ will be more disturbing than anything I could ever imagine.”

“Where’s Hedwig?”  Remus asked quietly as he began to sort the silver.

“She took off after a mouse in the drawing room,” Molly said with a sniff.  “I imagine she’s waiting for a reply.”

Sirius stood up, “I’m going to read this upstairs.  There’s still parchment and ink in the library.”

Remus followed him, “The drawing room’s mostly done, Molly.  It’s mostly just cleaning and repairing the furniture.”

“All right,” Molly said.  “I’ll send Ron, Hermione, Ginny in there after they’ve had lunch, scrubbing won’t hurt any of them.”

Remus followed Sirius up the stairs to the library, nodding to Hermione as she came out of her room.  “Professor,” Hermione called, “are you going to the library?”

Remus sighed; he was never going to get her to call him Remus now.  “Sirius and I need to talk in private, Hermione.  Besides, lunch is almost ready.  Come find me after dinner and I’ll keep you company then.”

Hermione smiled, “All right.  Thank you, Professor.”

Remus found Sirius already opening the letter when he stepped into the library.  “Well?”  He asked quietly.

“I’m not sure this is from Harry,” Sirius said, glancing up at Remus.

“Why not?”  Remus asked.

Sirius tilted the letter to Remus, “I can read his handwriting.”

Remus hurried over and scanned the letter, “No, that’s Harry.  He writes better with a pen.  Did you actually read the letter or were you just making jokes?”

“Uh,” Sirius said.  “He’s not having any nightmares?”

“Keep reading,” Remus said.

Sirius frowned at the paper, “He’s made some friends.  Is that important?”

“Only in that the only friends Harry has are Ron and Hermione,” Remus replied, “keep reading.”

“What’s a movie?”  Sirius asked.

“A type of Muggle play,” Remus said.

“And Mary Poopins?”

“It’s Poppins,” Remus sighed.  “It’s a story about an English nanny to two children who could perform fantastic things through odd magic.  Nothing wizardly, mind you.  However, they did jump in a chalk painting once.  Read the last line.”

 _“I think I enchanted my cousin’s clothes to fold themselves with my voice?”_   Sirius said, “Well that’s boring.  What does he mean _is this something wizards can do?_   What does he think his wand is for?”

Remus shook his head and patted Sirius’s shoulder.  “Just think about it a moment.”  He headed for the book he’d been reading last time he’d been in the library, whistling ‘Chim Chim Cheree’ as he walked.

“A bard!”  Sirius yelped moments later, distracting Remus from an interesting paragraph on Red Caps.

“Yes Sirius?”  Remus asked, not looking up.

“Harry, his Gift,” Sirius slammed his hand on Remus’s book, “Harry’s got a Gift, Mooney.”

Remus smiled at him, “Don’t act to surprised, Padfoot.  James did too you know.”

“But its Harry,” Sirius said, “he can’t be _old enough_ to have a Gift.”

“He’ll be fifteen at the end of the month,” Remus said.

“No, he can’t be,” Sirius said, “he can’t be _that old.”_

“Why not?”  Remus asked.

“Because I’m not old,” Sirius said.

“You are a man-puppy who will never be old,” Remus said firmly.  “And Harry needs help now and he’s asked you.  What are you going to do?”

Sirius stared at Remus for a long moment, silvery-grey eyes almost blank.  “I don’t know, Remus, what do I do?”

Remus sighed and closed his book, “You need to do three things.”

“Yeah?”  Sirius asked slowly.

“First, you write a note and tell Harry I’ll be over there tomorrow at one to explain things.  Second, you get to supervise Ron and Ginny if they decide not to be in the library tonight.  The third thing I’ll need from you tomorrow when I get back from Surrey.  Deal?”  Remus held out his hand.

Sirius hesitated, and then shook Remus’s hand firmly.  “Deal.”

Remus stood up, and carried his book over to the shelf it came from.  “Hedwig can take your note, clearly she’s waiting.”

Sirius hummed and held the note up, “One pm you said?”

“Yes,” Remus said.

A snowy owl soared into the library to perch on a chair as Sirius leaned over his paper for a moment and wrote one last thing.  “Hello Hedwig,” Sirius said, reaching over to stroke her wing for a moment before fastening the note.  “Take this back to Harry, yeah?”

Hedwig hooted and left the room, heading up towards the owl window on the upper story.  “We’ll get this settled tomorrow,” Remus said, “don’t worry Sirius.”

“That’s your job,” Sirius replied, “I don’t need any grey hairs.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs:
> 
> A Spoonful of Sugar from Disney's Mary Poppins  
> Chim Chim Cheree from Disney's Mary Poppins


	3. Manifestation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are a lot of things I could comment on in this story, but I think I'll stick to a few basics. The "song" Harry sings is something I wrote myself (hence it's quality or lack thereof). The words are translated at the bottom. There is a second note to be covered there as well.

Harry sent a note in reply, asking Remus to meet him at the corner of Privet Drive and Magnolia Crescent.  When Remus got there, Harry was waiting, talking to two other teenagers, a boy and a girl.  His sensitive hearing enabled him to hear what they were discussing.

“Professor Lupin,” Harry was saying.  “He taught at my school and was the best teacher we’d had in the subject.”

Remus smiled a little at the pride in Harry’s tone.  Knowing Sirius and Remus was clearly good for the boy.

“What did he teach?”  The girl asked, popping her gum.

“Math,” Remus answered as he came to a halt behind Harry.

“Professor Lupin!”  Harry said as he turned, “it’s good to see you.”  He hesitated for a moment, half-extending his hand, and then Remus smiled and reached out to pull Harry into a quick hug.  “I’m not your tech anymore, Harry.  You can call me Remus now.  I dare say if history had gone another way, you’d call me Mooney or Uncle Remus.”  Harry smiled up at him as he stepped back.  He might have James’s features, and Lily’s eyes, but that smile was pure Harry.  “Your friends?”  Remus asked.

“Oh,” Harry turned, “I’m sorry.  Lisa, Chris, this is Remus Lupin.  Remus, this is Lisa and Chris.  Lisa leads the Harmoniques, and Chris is their beat boxer.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Remus said, “I’ll admit, Harry probably knows more about music than I do.”

“Really?”  Lisa asked.

Remus tapped his ear and lied through his teeth, “Alas, I’m tone deaf.  Music doesn’t really mean anything to me.”

“That’s horrible,” Lisa said.

Remus shrugged, “I’m used to it.  I was born that way.  However, I’m afraid that Harry and I must depart.  We have a great deal to do and not much time to do it in.”

“He’s right,” Harry said.  “I’ll see you guys later.”

“Come by tomorrow,” Chris said, “We’re doing a Star Wars marathon.”

“I will,” Harry replied.

Remus watched the two walk away and turned to Harry, “It’s good to see you.  Sirius sends his love.”

Harry smiled shyly, “Thanks,” he said.

Remus rubbed his hands together, “Is your Aunt home?”

Harry shook his head, “Dudley’s friend from Smeltings is having a birthday party at a water park and Aunt Petunia drove Dudley over for the day.”

“That makes things easier,” Remus said, “may we go inside.”

Harry frowned, “I don’t have my key.  I locked it inside.”

If Remus hadn’t been able to see the minute signs of a lie, and hear Harry’s heart skip a beat, he wouldn’t have known the boy was lying.  “Harry,” Remus said, “the funny thing about me?  I have exceptional hearing, supernatural even.  I always know when I’m being lied to.”

Harry bit his lip, staring at the ground for a long moment.  “Aunt Petunia doesn’t like to leave me inside during the day and she’s not here.  I don’t have a key.”

“What if you have to use the bathroom?”  Remus asked, fighting to keep his temper.

“Mrs. Figg, she lives a few streets over, lets me use hers.  She fed me lunch to, even though Aunt Petunia didn’t say she had to.”  There was an odd hope in Harry’s eyes as he glanced at Remus over the tops of his glasses.

Remus sighed, “Well, do you have your Gringotts key?”

Harry shook his head slowly, “It’s in my trunk Prof- Remus.”

Remus nodded, “Well, it can’t be helped.  You need your key, and to change into something… nicer.”  He tried not to let his opinion of Harry’s oversized clothes show on his face, but while he’d never seen Harry as the sort to follow Malfoy’s example of dress, he’d never seen the boy look that ill kempt at Hogwarts.

“Yes Remus,” Harry said, “but how, the doors are walked.”

Remus smiled, “I know a few tricks.  Lay on MacDuff.”  For a moment, Harry stared at him in confusion, then turned and headed for number four.  “Not a fan of Shakespeare?”  Remus asked.

“Who?”  Harry replied.

“William Shakespeare,” Remus said, “the playwright.”  He paused, “He wrote Romeo and Juliet.”

“Oh,” Harry said, and then he shrugged, “I don’t know that I’m familiar with him.”

Remus smiled, “Your mother loved Shakespeare, she introduced me to him.  ‘Lay on MacDuff’ is from his play Hamlet.  _‘Lay on MacDuff, and damned be him who first cry hold!  Enough!’_ ”

“Sounds like a fight,” Harry said as they walked up the walkway to number four.

“It was,” Remus said.  He slipped his wand out and tapped the door, _“Alohomora.”_

“Won’t you get in trouble?”  Harry asked as he opened the door.

“Nope,” Remus said.  “I’m merely assisting a fellow wizard who is without his key.  Now go get changed and get your Gringotts key.”

Harry nodded and raced up the stairs.  Remus looked around a bit until he hears a rustle at the door.  “Hallo Bill,” Remus said.

“Remus,” Bill Weasley said.  “What are you doing here?”

It was a bit odd to speak with someone hidden by an exceptional disillusionment charm, but Remus kept his eyes focused just above where he thought Bill’s head would be and smiled a little.  “Harry wrote Sirius with a problem,” Remus replied, “since Sirius can’t come here and Dumbledore won’t let us move Harry until _after his fifteenth birthday_ , I came to help.”

“Fifteen,” Bill mused, “do you think he’s developing a Gift?”

Remus nodded, “He’s already had a manifestation.  We’re going to Gringotts.”

“Alone?”  Bill asked.

“I’m taking him Side-Along to the Leaky Cauldron.  Tonks as already agreed to meet us there.  You’re welcome to join us if you want.”

Bill hesitated, “All right.  I’ll follow you through.  Does Dumbledore know?”

“Not yet,” Remus replied, “Sirius and I agreed that getting Harry taken care of was a first priority.”

“Remus?”  Harry called.

There was a faint rustle and the door closed just before Harry trotted down the stairs.  “Harry,” Remus said.

Harry had pulled on a slightly better fitting outfit than before, but his trainers were still going at the toes and his pants had a patch on one knee.  Harry blushed, “I’m sorry.  I don’t have anything better here.”

“Really?”  Remus asked.

“Please,” Harry said.

Remus frowned, why was Harry insisting he only owned what were clearly hand-me-downs from a larger boy?  “We can discuss this in later.  About what happened to you, have you had any other outbursts?”

Harry shook his head, “None.  I’ve been trying not to hum, or whistle even.  I never noticed how often I do that.”

Remus smiled, “Well, what is happening is not unusual.  You’ll be fifteen in two weeks, right?”

“Yes,” Harry said.

“When Wizards turn fifteen, Witches too for that matter, they might develop a Gift or an Affinity, that is, an ability over and above their ability to use magic.  Not every Wizard or Witch will develop a Gift but almost everyone has an Affinity, and yes, you can have both.  Your father never used his Gift much, but he was ever so proud of his Affinity to Transfiguration, an Affinity that Sirius shared.”  Remus hesitated, noting how Harry’s eyes lit up at the mention of his father.  “Lily had a double affinity actually, Charms and Potions, but she didn’t have a Gift.”

“What kind of Gift did my father have?”  Harry asked eagerly.

“Well, given what little I know of you,” Remus said, “I dare say you share the Potter Bardic Gift.”

“What’s that?”  Harry asked.

“It means that music serves you as a conduit to magic.  James had a whole collection of what he called whistle charms that could to anything from fix his hair to clean the dishes.  He wasn’t much for a formal music education, and he didn’t have a good voice either, so James tended to whistle.”  Remus gestured, “You’ll learn more shortly, Harry.  You’ll need your key at Gringotts.”

“Why?”  Harry asked.

“Because in the Potter Vault there are devices that make sure that you don’t send the dishes flying every time you hum.”  Remus smiled, “As well as some books that might help.  I thought you might also like to drop in Flourish and Blotts for a few books as well.”

“Okay,” Harry said slowly.

“You do want to learn music properly don’t you?”  Remus asked with a raised eyebrow.  “Besides, there’s also the deal of Sirius’s birthday gift to you.”

“Birthday gift?”  Harry asked.

Remus nodded.  “Sirius told me to pick out something you want, something you need, and something that makes you laugh.  Do you think we can get all of that?”

“I guess,” Harry said.  “How will we get to London though?”

“Apparition,” Remus said.  “I’ll bring you with me as a Side Along.  We’ll land just down the road from Gringotts.  Two additional escorts will meet us there, Bill Weasley whom you know, and Nymphadora Tonks is an off-duty Auror.”  Harry frown and Remus sighed, “I know we’d both prefer to be able to wander the Alley together with no worries, but Voldemort is out there.  He’s building his power base, and we need to be careful.”

“Right,” Harry said.  “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” Remus said after a moment.  “I need you to step close to me and close your eyes.  I’ll have my arm around your shoulders.”

“Okay,” Harry said, coming in close to Remus.  Remus slid his arm around Harry’s shoulders, trying not to comment on the way Harry’s heart was beating rapidly and he was tense.  Instead, he gripped Harry’s shoulder firmly and pictured the apparition point.

“Take a deep breath,” Remus murmured, “here we go.”

The apparition point in Diagon Alley was set close to the bank, probably under the premise that everyone starts at Gringotts.  Remus steered Harry away from the area enough for incoming traffic and looked around.

Tonks, her hair a distinctive shade of purple, was already approaching, Bill Weasley just behind her.  “Wotcher Remus,” Tonks called with a wave.

“Auror Tonks,” Remus replied.  “Harry, this is Nymph.”

“Don’t you dare,” Tonks hissed, her hair turning a bright red.

“Nymphadora Tonks,” Remus finished.

“Call me Tonks,” Tonks said.  “I never use my first name.”

“Nice to meet you,” Harry said after a moment.  “Hey Bill.”

“Good to see you again Harry.  Are you ready to go?”

“Yes,” Harry said

They hurried across the Alley, Remus leading with Harry beside him.  He scanned the crowds, noticed a few curious glances, but nobody approached them as they entered Gringotts.  Harry shivered and Remus glanced at him, “Are you okay?”

“They’re acting like…”  Harry trailed off.

“The Ministry isn’t admitting he’s back,” Remus replied quietly.  “They think they’re still safe.  Now, the Goblins will need to confirm your Gift is manifesting before they let you into the vault, and they won’t allow you to bring out anything else.  We can take some time to look though.”  He spotted an unoccupied teller and headed over.

The teller stared as Remus stepped up, “Mister Harry Potter wishes to confirm manifestation and make a withdrawal,” Remus said, and pulled the letter out of his pocket, “and I am authorized to provide you with this.”  He handed the letter over to the goblin.

The goblin turned slightly, “Gornuk,” he said.  A Goblin hurried from the behind the desk, “Escort Mister Potter to the Heritage office.”  The teller opened the letter Remus handed him and scanned it.  “I will verify this,” he said after a moment, “if this is truthful, it will be waiting when you are finished.”

“Thank you,” Remus replied.

Remus followed Harry and Gornuk into the offices at the back of Gringotts, past a beautifully crafted archway with a small sign that read _Heritage Office._   There was a semi-circle of desks where Goblins quietly shuffled papers.  Gornuk headed for the third desk on the right, “Narruk,” he said, “Mister Harry Potter wishes to confirm manifestation.”

The Goblin, Narruk, looked at Gornuk, and then at the boy following him.  “This way,” he said, standing up and taking a clipboard from his desk and a quill.  They headed to the back of the office, leaving Gornuk at the desk.  “One escort only,” Narruk added, eyeing Remus, Tonks, and Bill.

“We’ll wait,” Tonks announced while Bill nodded.

Remus followed Harry and Narruk through a door into a midsized room with stone walls.  “What is the nature of your manifestation?”  Narruk asked, looking at his clipboard.

Harry glanced at Remus, “Uh, when I sing, things happened.  I folded all my laundry that way yesterday.”

“Is that the first time you have manifested?”  Narruk asked as he wrote something down.

“Yes,” Harry replied.

Narruk nodded, “Sing please.”

Harry blinked, glanced at Remus and took an unsteady breath.  He stopped, closed his eyes, took a second breath, and held it.

 _“He stood up_  
He was so proud  
His uniform, it said it all  
When Uncle Sam called  
He stood up”

Remus blinked.  Harry’s parents had never been musical, although Harry’s grandfather, Charlus, had been part of a men’s singing group for years and had a strong baritone.  Harry had a pure, sweet tone that didn’t aggravate his sensitive hearing.  As his voice swept over Remus, he felt himself relaxing, convinced that things would be all right.

As Harry finished singing, he glanced at the Goblin nervously.

After a moment, Narruk shook his head slightly.  “I can confirm your manifestation, Mister Potter.  How do you wish to proceed?”

Harry looked at Remus, Remus turned to the Goblin, “What are his options?”

Narruk eyed Remus for a moment, and then turned to Harry.  “By coming to Gringotts, you have fulfilled the law in filing your manifestation and classification.  Your options now are to allow Gringotts to file the forms with the Ministry under confidentiality, preventing your name from being revealed before your majority.  Gringotts can also file the forms with your name revealed.  You may take the forms to the Ministry yourself and file them if you so choose.”

Remus hesitated to speak up, but decided he needed to, “Who can access the records if Harry chooses no confidentiality?”

“The records are open to the public,” Narruk replied.

“And the fees?”  Remus asked.

“There is a ten galleon fee for confidentiality,” Narruk said.

“I’ll pay it,” Harry said.  “I want confidentiality, please.”  He glanced at Remus then turned to Narruk, “This will last until I’m eighteen?”

“Seventeen,” Remus corrected him.  “The age of majority is seventeen.”

“Right,” Harry said, “what happens then?”

“Your name will be revealed on the parchment at midnight of your seventeenth birthday,” Narruk said, “traditionally a bard such as yourself would then perform small demonstration of their skills.  A particularly strong bard will have a group to support them.”

“We can cover that later,” Remus said.  “I know there’s at least one good book on the subject that will help.  We don’t have much time before someone notices something.”

“Right,” Harry said.

“We need access to the Potter Vault,” Remus continued, turning to Narruk.  “There are training aids that will be of use to us.”

“Do you have your key, Mister Potter?”  Narruk asked.

Harry pulled it out of his pocket.  “Here,” he said.

“That’s your trust vault key,” Narruk said, “not the Family Vault key.”

“This is the only key I have,” Harry said, frowning.

Narruk hissed softly.  “Come into the office, we will determine the location of your key.”

He led them into the busy outer office where Bill and Tonks were waiting.  “What’s going on?”  Bill asked as he stood up from his chair.

“Nothing major,” Remus said quietly.  “Just an unexpected setback.”

“Are you sure?”  Tonks asked.

“I’m sure,” Remus replied.

He hurried to the desk where Harry was pressing his bloody thumb to a piece of parchment.  Lines of runes began to appear and Narruk leaned over to study them intently.  Finally, he looked up and considered Harry for a long moment.

“What’s wrong?”  Harry asked.

“The key is still here,” Narruk said, “did you never come to hear the will?”

“Will… you mean my parents had a will?”  Harry asked, looking over at Remus.

“They did,” Remus said, “Sirius witnessed it.  I would have, but it would have invalidated it.  I thought you were told.”

“No,” Harry said slowly.  He turned to Narruk, “is it possible to have the will read now?”

“Unfortunately, it is not,” Narruk said.  “We would have drawn the will when you first came to the bank, but now it is back in our archives.  We would need some time to locate and retrieve the document.”

Remus squeezed Harry’s shoulder, “We can make an appointment to do so later,” he told the crestfallen teen.  “Is it possible to access the vault now?”

Narruk hesitated, and then nodded.  “The will was probated and executed by Gringotts in 1980.  As Mister Potter’s inheritance was restricted until he turned eleven, there was no issue.  One moment.”  He stood up and vanished through another door.

“Don’t worry Harry,” Bill said, “Gringotts’ archive is massive, but organized.  Every business transaction recorded on paper in the bank is filed there.  If you’ve ever written instructions to the bank, written a will, transferred a property deed, the record is there.  They have records dating back to the 1600s in fact.  That’s why Narruk can’t just run and fetch the will.”

“I understand,” Harry said quietly.

Narruk reappeared with a stone box that he put on the table.  “Within is your family ring, Mister Potter.  As long as you are who you claim you are, there will be no issue.  If you lie about your place, Magic will see to it that you pay the price.”

“I understand,” Harry said.

“Then open the box,” Narruk said.

Harry opened the box and stared inside for a moment before taking out the ring.  He slipped it on his finger and stared, “It moved,” he said.

“It automatically resized itself,” Remus replied.

“Wicked,” Harry said.

“That’s the Heir’s ring, isn’t it?”  Bill asked.

“Mister Potter cannot ascend to _rialóir_ for two reasons.  The first was that many of the _cenedl_ in fact did not survive the war.  The second was that _Rialóir_ Potter released his _ceannair_ who survived the War to find a new _tuath_ as he felt that any time longer than three years was too long for them to await their new _rialóir._   _Rialóir_ Potter indicated that each of the _cenedl_ and _teaghlach_ might be invited back into the _tuath_ but that it would be at the _Rialóir’s_ behest.”  Narruk replied.

“What?”  Harry asked.

“I’ll explain that, or someone else can,” Remus said, “it’s a bit more complicated than Gifts and Affinities.  We do need to keep moving, Harry.”

“Right,” Harry replied, taking out the key.

“As the will has not yet been read,” Narruk said, “you may only retrieve the instruments of your training, _Oidhre_ Potter.  Do you understand?”

Harry swallowed, “I understand.”

“Then I will take you to the vault, with your companions.”

“Thank you,” Harry said.

Remus had been to the Potter Vault a number of times with James.  He had almost forgotten how deep the vault actually was.  Harry was grinning when they arrived and Remus smiled, “Having fun?”

“It’s almost as good as flying,” Harry replied quietly.

Narruk walked up to the door and pressed his hand to it, after a long moment the doors swung open.  “Come on,” Remus said.

When James had returned his own training aids to the vault, he’d put them in the back of the vault, where instruments built or enchanted by past Potters had been stored.  They were kept in a tall, black cabinet along with several other varieties.

Harry stared as Remus opened the cabinet.  “There are several different types of aid devices,” Remus said, picking up a small book from the bottom of the cabinet.  “They’re numbered, and there is a page in the book that describes them.”

Harry nodded and stepped closer to examine some discreet bands of what looked to be braided leather.  “These are nice,” he said.

Remus opened the book and found their numbers, scanning the paragraphs.  Remembering an overheard conversation, Remus cleared his throat.  “Number 65 might be the better choice.  Not only does it allow you to sing without magic, but it does so in a manner that you might find beneficial.”

“All right,” Harry said.

“Has your scar been hurting this summer?”  Remus asked.

“Off and on,” Harry replied, “but I haven’t had any dreams.”

“Number 65 might help with that,” Remus said.  “It creates a block on your mind to keep others out.  It’s occasionally used as a training aid for Occlumency as well.”

“What’s that?”  Harry asked as he took the black and brown leather cuff from the cabinet.

“In its simplest form, it is a technique that allows you to keep people from reading your mind.”  Remus replied as he browsed the book.

“They can do that?”  Harry asked.

“You would have to be very well trained,” Remus said.  He looked up, “That cuff will be easily dismissed as an accessory, Harry.  May I recommend a somewhat more obvious back up?”

“Like what?”

Remus leaned over and pointed, “Something like that, with the emeralds and the rune.  It works the same way, but it will be an obvious sign that you’re having Gift training.  It’s a useful way to send a message to someone.”

Harry picked up the glove and considered it, “All right,” he said.  “I’ll do it.”

“Thank you,” Remus said as he put the book away.  “Now, do you want to learn an instrument to express your Gift?”

Harry shook his head, “Chris showed me his keyboard, but it doesn’t feel right.  Not like singing does.”

“All right,” Remus said.  “There are books in that cabinet there, let’s see if there’s anything we can use.”

Harry was a bit reluctant to collect many books, but when Remus pointed out to him that there were songs in the books for him to learn to sing, he was a bit more enthusiastic.  Especially the book that, when a note was tapped with a finger, would play notes and rate your pitch accuracy.  Flourish and Blotts was also a hit when Harry saw all the different books about music.  Bill even unearthed a small volume on a capella singing, although he didn’t let Harry see it.  Instead, he slipped it to Remus with a muttered, “Birthday gift?”

Remus also insisted they stop by Madame Malkins to get Harry new school robes, after Harry had admitted his own were getting ‘a bit short’.  With that extra stop out of the way, Remus brought Harry home, helping him sneak in long enough to hide away his packages.

As they headed back to the street corner they met, Remus turned to see someone pulling into number four.  “Is that your Aunt?”  He asked.

Harry glanced over his shoulder, “Yes, that’s her.”

“Good,” Remus said.  “I need to have a word with her.”

“Remus,” Harry said.

“No, I promise, she might actually like this one,” Remus replied, turning around.  He smiled at Harry, “I promise it’s nothing bad.”  He hurried up the street to where Petunia Dursley and an overly rotund boy were climbing out of their car.  “Excuse me, Mrs. Petunia Dursley?”

“Yes?”  Petunia asked.

“My name is Remus Lupin,” Remus said, “we met a very long time ago.  I’m here as a representative of Harry’s guardian of choice in Lily and James’s will.”

“Isn’t it a bit late for that?”  Petunia began.

“Yes well,” Remus said, “Harry has been unavailable so we have been unable to enact the clauses that pertain to him and his caretakers.  I’d like to arrange for a will reading to have those clauses properly enacted.  I understand there are provisions in the will for the caretakers.  I may need Harry to come to the London office for the reading, but I will ask if the will can be read in a local setting if possible.”

“Well,” Petunia said, “we were never informed of a will.”

“No,” Remus agreed, “while the unrelated clauses were released at the time, Harry’s safety was paramount and his location a matter of high security.”  He took a deep breath and drew up every bit of cunning he needed.  “I understand that you and your husband are middle class, and there’s no shame to being a family that works hard.  No matter which world, the middle class is the backbone of the nation.”  He smiled a little when Petunia drew herself up, “Therefore, Harry’s presence has clearly been a strain on the family that could not be remedy before.  Harry’s guardian of choice would like to correct a part of that in advance of the will reading.  Due to circumstances beyond his control, the guardian is unable to take legal control of Harry as you both would no doubt desire.  Instead, he has authorized two things, with a promise.  The first is a onetime payment to show his gratitude for your care and feeding of the _Oidhre_ Potter, the second involves the promise.”

“I would need to hear the promise first,” Petunia said.

Remus nodded, “Harry’s guardian understands you are middle class and admires the many qualities of your class, however he, and Harry, are _not_ middle class.  They both come from ancient and noble families in both worlds.  Harry’s guardian wishes to provide money for you to acquire clothing for Harry, fitted clothing.  I will arrange Harry’s clothing for our side of the line, but he would like for you to arrange the purchase of clothing on this side of the line.  He did say that you need not dress Harry as fits the rank he will inherit at his majority, but recommended instead that you dress him appropriately to your lifestyle for now.  The promise is this, you will spend the designated money on Harry, and Harry alone.  Failure to do so will result in action, including legal action.  Harry’s guardian and I will not expect receipts from you to prove you have made the purchases unless we see that Harry’s wardrobe has remained unchanged.”

Petunia stared at Remus for a long moment, and Remus wondered what she was thinking.  He’d met Lily’s sister twice, before Harry was even born and he had never understood the woman who’s jealousy over her magical little sister drove her to be petty and spiteful.

“I will do it,” Petunia said finally.

“Very well,” Remus said.  He took two envelopes from his jacket, “The first is the monetary thank you from Harry’s guardian, and the second is for Harry’s wardrobe.  I will call you with information of the will reading as well as to arrange when we will pick up Harry for the end of summer.”

Petunia accepted the envelopes and placed them in her bag.  “I will await your call, Mister Lupin.”

“Good day, Mrs. Dursley,” Remus nodded and stepped back.  He started down the driveway, and then turned back, “Before you think that you might trick Harry’s guardian, keep in mind that there are many places where the word of a Marquis will be heard over a member of the middle class.”

“I’ll remember,” Petunia said.

“Harry,” Remus added, “I’ll see you soon.”

“Good bye, Remus,” Harry called back with a wave.

Remus headed for Mrs. Figg’s house, and the awaiting floo, humming to himself.  That was a good day’s trick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> rialoir- ruler  
> ceannair- leader  
> oidhre- heir  
> tuath- tribe  
> cenedl- clan  
> teaghlach- family
> 
>  
> 
> In a case of "it makes sense in context" part two of this story can go one of two ways. I can crossover with Teen Wolf or I can pick a different source. I am NOT asking for suggestions. I am simply exploring an option available to me.


	4. Time With The Dursleys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally worked out my issues with this chapter, sorry it took so long. Dursleys are OOC, but for reasons to be explained at some point in the next three chapters. In the letter from Sirius and Remus, bold/italic is Remus, italic is Sirius.

For Harry, the following week was nothing like what he expected from the Dursleys.  After he got home from the marathon with Lisa, Chris, and the others, he found himself mostly ignored by Vernon.  Petunia was making something in the kitchen when Harry wandered in, hoping he could get a drink of water. 

“Tomorrow we are going to Guildford to do some shopping,” Petunia told Harry, “dress in your best clothes for the trip.  I spoke with Mister Lupin today; the will reading will be next Tuesday in Guildford.”

“Yes Aunt Petunia,” Harry replied.  He hesitated a moment, “Aunt Petunia, I’ve been invited to spend next weekend in London with some friends I’ve made.  Remus, I mean, Mister Lupin, told me that I’ve been invited to stay with friends starting Monday after next.  If they agree, I was wondering if maybe I could go with my friends to London and then onto spend the rest of the summer elsewhere?”

“We’ll see,” Petunia said with a sniff.

Harry got out a glass, filled it from the sink, and sipped it contemplatively.  Petunia seemed different from normal; usually she would have been far more unpleasant.  Was Remus’s comment about a Marquis really that effective?

Finished with his water, Harry slid the glass in the sink and glanced at his aunt.  “What?”  Petunia asked.

“Nothing,” Harry said.  He turned and headed out of the kitchen, waiting for her to call him back.  When no one said anything, Harry hurried upstairs to send another letter to Sirius and Remus.  Lisa and Chris had invited him to come see their national competition in London and he wanted to go.  The fact that he would be gone from Privet Drive for his birthday if they allowed him to go was a happy bonus.

HP NOB HP NOB HP

Shopping with Aunt Petunia was an experience.  Usually Harry was either left with Mrs. Figg or left to trail behind his aunt and Dudley in the shops in Little Whinging.  Guildford was larger and had more high-end shops that Harry had expected.  Aunt Petunia had handled the trip with a faint aura of distaste even as she ordered him around each store they entered.

They finished with Petunia’s chosen clothes shops by noon and after a quick bite to eat at a deli, Petunia took him to a shoe store before collecting the altered clothing.

“I hope you know how to treat these clothes,” Petunia said as they headed back to Little Whinging on the train.  “I won’t be buying you replacements, and I doubt anyone else will either.”

“I know,” Harry said quietly.

“I am inclined to allow you to go to London with your friends,” Petunia said after a moment.  “It is convenient for Vernon and I to allow this.  However, between now and then, you must keep out of trouble and complete your chores.”

“Yes, Aunt Petunia,” Harry said quietly.  He wanted to leap from his seat and dance for joy at the thought of leaving the Dursleys.  “Thank you.”

Uncle Vernon met them at the railway, looking unhappy as Harry slid into the backseat.  “The boy was adequately behaved,” Aunt Petunia said as they pulled away from the station.  “We were able to get everything done faster than I anticipated.”

Vernon grunted and Harry slid down the seat a bit.  Vernon probably wasn’t as happy as with the new changes as Petunia seemed to be.  Then Harry wondered if either of them had ever known whom Lily had loved and married.  If they’d known, would they have treated him any different?

Harry clenched his fist and reminded himself that he’d given up trying to please the Dursleys years ago, because no matter what he did, they would never see him as anything more than a burden.  All he could really do was keep his head down and follow orders and he’d be out of there in two years.

Reminded of the fact that wizards came of age a year before the Muggles, Harry’s heart lifted.  He only had two years of dealing with the Dursleys, one more summer if he played his cards right.  Then he could find his own life far from the Dursleys and Surrey.

He wondered if his family had any properties, and where they would be located.  Did he have lands and manors scattered all over the globe, or if there was just a house, manor sized or not, where he could make a home for himself.

Were there portraits somewhere like those at Hogwarts, people who might remember the Potter family and could tell him about his history?  What about those strange words the goblin had used, _ceannair, rialóir, oidhre,_ what did they mean?  There were so many things he didn’t know about the Potters, things that he wanted to learn, and all he could really do was hope that Sirius and Remus would teach him.

“Boy,” Vernon barked, “are you going to sit in the car all night?”

“No,” Harry said and climbed out, “Sorry Uncle Vernon.”  He collected his bags and took them upstairs, not even looking as he hurried past Dudley in the upstairs hallway.  He hung the clothes up in his wardrobe, unwilling to have Petunia comment if he left them stacked somewhere else.  Then he looked around to see Hedwig waiting with a letter.  “Hey girl,” Harry said, and took the letter she carried.

There was a letter from Remus and Sirius along with notes from Hermione and Ron.  Harry opened Ron’s letter eagerly, he’d been waiting a week.

_Hey Harry, sounds like you’re having a better summer than last year!  Wish we could tell you what’s going on, but we promised.  Don’t let the Muggles get you down, you’ll be with us soon._

Harry frowned, he knew Ron wasn’t big on writing letters, but this, this sounded like he hadn’t even _read_ Harry’s letter.  He opened Hermione’s letter with another frown.

_Dear Harry, I’m glad you’re making friends at the Dursleys.  I hope it makes the time past faster than normal.  Hasn’t it been dreadfully hot lately?  We’re busy here, but I’ve done my summer homework already.  You’ll be here soon, so you’ll hear all about it then.  Take care of yourself, and stay out of trouble.  Hermione._

What was going on?  Harry wondered as he flipped the letter back and forth.  He picked up Sirius and Remus’s letter, hoping for answers.

_Hey Pup!  Our friendly headmaster got it in his head that your friends shouldn’t tell you much of anything and pushed them into strong promises.  I hope you don’t get too mad at them; the headmaster gave them a very impressive lecture full of horror stories of putting something in a letter that could compromise your safety._

**_To be fair, during the last war, Voldemort did intercept letters from hidden families and use them to kill people.  It only happened when someone failed to protect their mail, however.  Any decent wizard or witch who survived Voldemort knows all sorts of security charms to keep people safe, and Hedwig’s loyalty was yours from day one._ **

_It still doesn’t excuse the headmaster though.  Harry, listen, we’re at the headquarters for a group dedicated to fighting Voldemort, just think of us as the Old Crowd.  Your dad and mum were a part of the crowd back in the day, same as the Longbottoms and a few other people you know._

**_You should be aware that you have a guard this summer; they’ve been following you everywhere.  Usually its people like Bill Weasley and Tonks, but some older people are being added to the roster.  Things aren’t going well; remember how I said the Minister refused to admit that Voldemort was back?  He’s started attacking Dumbledore as well, forcing him out of positions Dumbledore has held for a long time.  The Prophet’s been trying to attack you as well, and we’re doing what we can, but it’s not easy.  Voldemort’s been keeping quiet.  He wants something before he starts attacking, but we’re not sure what.  If Dumbledore has told anyone, we haven’t heard about it._ **

_Some of the people Dumbledore has guarding you now aren’t the most reliable as guards.  I’m not sure why he’s putting them on the roster at all.  Still, for your purposes it might be for the best.  We know you want to go to London next weekend, but we do have to be careful.  You are a target for Voldemort, but you know that.  We need to know the hotel you’ll be staying at with your friends.  Bill, Remus, and Tonks will be staying there as well in case of trouble._

**_Don’t worry about dodging your guards.  We’ve fixed the roster so that Bill will be there next Friday when you leave, and Tonks will be your guard over Saturday.  Sunday will be the issue, but we’re hopeful of convincing the guard not to say anything.  Monday, Remus and the others will bring you to headquarters.  Moody is planning some elaborate maneuvers with brooms over London for 5 August, but we’re hoping to have you arrive quietly on the first._ **

_I know this must be frustrating for you Harry, but this is the way things are.  We have to play by the rules dictated by certain people, for now.  I hate it as much as you do, but sometimes the appearance of obedience is necessary.  Just think of the prank we’ll play when you’re seventeen and proving to the world what you know!_

**_On a more personal note, we’ve been trying to arrange tutors for you and your Gift for Hogwarts, but there will be difficulties.  The Ministry is up to something and we may not be allowed to do much given their decision to stand against you.  There is another option, but you must know that it will be difficult.  Gringotts is allowed to perform certain magic to aid in the training of Gifts, particularly for strong Gifts.  One of the magic rituals they use may be a better choice than simply arranging tutors in a hostile environment, especially if you are strong enough to need others to help best express your magic.  We can discuss this more when you get to Headquarters.  I’ll see you at the will reading, I’ll be representing your guardian of choice naturally._ **

_I’ll see you when you get to Headquarters.  Don’t push things Harry, please.  I know you hate it there, but if you can hold out until next weekend, you’ll be out of there.  We’ll have time to figure out something better for next summer I’m sure.  Don’t be too hard on Ron and Hermione; it’s hard to go against Dumbledore when he’s being that manip- I mean persuasive.  Stupid autopen._

_Padfoot and **Moony**_

Harry grinned and rolled the letter up.  At least Remus and Sirius were willing to let him know things.  He considered writing them back, but hearing Aunt Petunia shout for him to come to dinner, he decided that it was better to wait.

HP NOB HP NOB HP

Harry hadn’t expected anything when it came to the will reading, but when Vernon pulled up in front of a large office building with a discrete sign saying _Harold, Pearson, Whittaker, and Potter; Solicitors_ he wondered.

They were met by a tall woman with black hair tamed into a tight bun.  “Oidhre Potter and Vernon and Petunia Dursley?”  She asked.

“Yes,” Vernon said shortly.

“I am Maeve Potter, one of the Potter family lawyers; if you’ll follow me please.”  She led them further through a maze of offices to a well-appointed conference.

“Are you related to my dad?”  Harry blurted out as they sat down around the conference table.

Maeve smiled, “My husband’s related to the Potter wizarding family back a long way.  There was a Potter Squib who married a Muggle and their family stayed Muggle for the most part.  There are the occasional witch or wizard from our family, usually they’re adopted into the Potter wizarding family and enjoy the benefits there of.  Our firm however, specializes in dealing with the intricacies of maneuvering Muggle and Wizarding law for families that straddle the line.”

“Oh,” Harry said, he would have liked to meet real family members besides the Dursleys.

“Here are Mister Lupin and Mister Whittaker,” Maeve said, “I believe we’re prepared then.”  A tall, white haired man entered the room with Remus right behind him.  “Mister Whittaker, this is Oidhre Potter and his Guardians at Law, Vernon and Petunia Dursley.  This is Charles Whittaker, a firm’s senior partner and lead on the Potter Estate management.”

“Good afternoon,” Whittaker said as he shook their hands.  “This is a day long in coming, I believe.  Imagine, you live right here in Surrey and we never knew.”

“You didn’t?”  Petunia asked.

“Harry’s placement back in 1980 was declared a Wizarding State Secret,” Whittaker said, “we had no legal recourse.”

“Now,” Whittaker said, “we have the Oidhre present, his Guardians at Law, and a recognized legal representative for the Guardian of Choice, _Rialóir_ Lord Sirius Black.  We are able to begin.”  He took a file from the table, opened it, and began to read.

“ _I, James Charlus Potter and Lily Marie Potter nee Evans, on this, the 5 th day of August, 1980, being in accordance and of sound mind and body do adhere that this joint Will and Testament as our sole Will and Testament, revoking all will and codicils previously enacted._

_Article I.  Charles Whittaker of the firm Harold, Pearson, Whittaker, and Potter is named the executor of our will along with such parties is needful to see to the carrying out of our wishes._

_Article II.  In the matter of our first born child, Harry James Potter.  See the attached list of chosen guardians for his placement.  If the sole available caretaker is my sister, Petunia Anne Dursley nee Evans, the amount of a thousand pounds shall be made available quarterly for the care of my son.  Should a delay in the reading of the will occur due to the safety of my son, reimbursement shall be made to the Dursley family not to exceed one sixth of the annual income reported for the purpose of income tax by the Dursley household for each year that Harry James resided for more than ten months at the Dursley residence.  Following Harry James’s entrance to Hogwarts, the Dursleys shall receive two hundred pounds for every month spent at the Dursley residence.  This amount shall be reimbursed in its entirety._

_Article III.  The entirety of the Potter estate is to pass into the control of Harry James on the day of his majority.  Starting at the age of eleven, Harry James shall have unrestricted access to the trust vault in his name for the purpose of school supplies and recreational needs.  At age fifteen, Harry James will have access to the Family Vault for the purpose of tools and additional fees related to the instruction of any manifestations or affinities that develop._

_Article IV.  All titles of the Potter family not previously bequeathed to other persons shall be inherited by Harry James at the appropriate age as dictated by the Magical and Muggle Governments.  See attached list._

_Article V.  If more than three years remain until Harry James reaches majority, all surviving teaghlach and cenedl of the Potter tuath are released to seek alliance under other rialóir as they see fit along with all personal funds and possessions._

_Article VI.  The Potters of Harold, Pearson, Whittaker, and Potter are named as the managers of the Potter Trust, to ensure the continued financial contributions to those families we have pledged assistance to, and to see to the expansion of the trust, both in revenue and in assistance to those first generation magical children as would benefit.”_

Mr. Whittaker looked up, “The rest of the articles of the will are personal bequests that were made in 1982, when it was proven that the Oidhre would not be made available for a will reading.  For now, Mister Dursley, we need copies of your income statements from 1981 onward for the purposes of reimbursement.  We have a check prepared for the monthly payments from 1991 until now that you will be able to take with you.  Oidhre, I understand you have received access to the vault for training tools for your manifestation and your family ring.  At this moment, there is nothing else available, but when I sat with your parents to make this will, they discussed making a portrait for you on the off chance that they would die young as well as letters.  I suggest on your next trip to Gringotts you see if such items are indeed available.”

“I will,” Harry said with a nod.

“If there are any other questions?”  Mr. Whittaker asked.

“I need to have a word with Harry, if possible,” Remus said.

“No questions,” Uncle Vernon said.

“If you would come with me, Mister Dursley,” Maeve said, “I’ll get you the check and we can make arrangements for future payments.”

“Naturally,” Uncle Vernon said.

Harry tried to pretend that they all didn’t see how greedy Uncle Vernon looked as he followed Maeve out of the office, Aunt Petunia right behind him.  “Harry,” Remus said, “do you want to contest the payments to the Dursleys?”

Harry shook his head, “No, I don’t.  They’ll just make things worse if I do.  This way, when I leave, whether it’s next year or the year after, they won’t be able to say I was a freeloader the whole time.  Speaking of leaving, I got the name of the hotel for this weekend.”

“Oh?”  Remus asked.

“Le Meridien Piccadilly,” Harry said, “we’ll be there Friday by five for check in.”

“All right,” Remus said, “Bill will take your trunk and we’ll meet you there, all right?”

Harry grinned, “Sounds like a plan.  My only worry is that Hermione and Ron will try to send me something for my birthday.  Can you suggest they wait until I get there?”

“I think we can do something like that,” Remus agreed.

“Does anyone even know what’s going on?”  Harry asked.

“Legal, only Sirius and I know what your Gift is, and Tonks and Bill are the only ones who know you’ve manifested a Gift.  By law we can’t tell anyone, and the will reading is nobody’s business as it should have been done when you were eleven and wasn’t.  All most people know is that you’ve been writing Sirius about the Wizarding World and that we’ve asked you to hold off because of Dumbledore’s concerns.”  Remus replied.  “You’d better get going though.  We’ll see you on Friday.”

“I’ll see you Friday,” Harry said.

Remus followed Harry out to where the Dursleys were shaking hands with Maeve, “Mister Dursley,” Remus said, “seeing as Harry will be going to stay with his friends after this weekend.  I’d like for someone to be able to come by on Friday to collect Harry’s school things and his owl so that he won’t need to drag them to the hotel.  Bill Weasley is a respected member of our bank and well versed in the customs of the Muggle world.  He owns and drives a car, which will be how he will arrive on Friday.”

Vernon stared at Remus for a long moment, “If Petunia doesn’t have a problem with it, I don’t see why not.”

They turned to Petunia who nodded, “As long as he is discrete.  What time should I expect Mister Weasley?”

“Between eleven and twelve,” Remus said, “I will send Harry a note if things change.  Until then, Mr. and Mrs. Dursley.”

“Mister Lupin,” Petunia replied with a nod.

As Remus walked away, Harry wondered if he imagined the man’s shoulders shaking like he was laughing.  Then he shrugged and followed his Aunt and Uncle to the car.  Whatever the deal was, if he needed to know about it, Remus and Sirius would let him know.


	5. Friday in London

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and the Harmoniques arrive in London

Bill Weasley had been born with curiosity, creativity, and intelligence.  He’d learned to be cool under pressure with the growing number of younger siblings and cousins in his family.  He learned to lie convincingly from his dorm mates at Hogwarts.  That combined with his Muggle-born friends and coworkers in Egypt had, he thought, prepared him to handle what he would experience at number four Privet Drive that Friday.

The sneer on Petunia Dursley’s face when she opened the door was certainly not what Bill had expected however.

“How can I help you?”  Petunia asked.

“I’m Bill, I mean William Weasley,” Bill said, grateful he’d at least exchanged dragon hide and fang for fitted trousers and a simple silver hoop, which helped him look slightly more professional.  “I’m here to collect Harry’s school things.”

“Come inside,” Petunia said, “I’ll get the boy.”

Given that Bill had heard Vernon call Harry ‘boy’ more than Harry, he wasn’t that surprised, but he had to wonder if either of the elder Dursleys ever called Harry by his given name.

“I thought you worked at a bank.”

Bill glanced around and found an overly large boy with blond hair staring at him from the kitchen.  This must be Dudley Dursley of the Ton Tongue Toffee incident.  “I do,” Bill said.  “Some people trust a somewhat unconventional person who knows what he’s doing more than a stodgy old man.”

There was a thump and Harry appeared on the stairs, carefully bringing his trunk down with him.  “Bill’s kind of like an archeologist, Dudley, like Indiana Jones.”

“Need some help?”  Bill asked, wondering who Indiana Jones was.

“Please?”  Harry asked.

Bill had heard his parents wondering about where Harry got his manners, having spent a month watching over the household to protect Harry, Bill was wondering more than ever.  “Why don’t you lower that upper end down to me and then bring up the rear,” Bill suggested.

“All right, but be careful,” Harry said, “The top doesn’t shut as well as it’s supposed to.  It was broken a few years ago.”

Bill really wanted to ask, but he could tell this wasn’t the place.  “Is this trunk all of it?”  He asked as he caught hold of the handle and lifted it.

“Hedwig too,” Harry said, “I’ll go back for her and my bag.  I’m supposed to be over at Chris’s at twelve thirty.  His parents offered to drive me, since they’re letting Chris and I share a hotel room.”

“I could have given you a ride,” Bill pointed out.

Harry’s cheeks turned a dull red, “No thank you Bill.  I told Chris I’d help distract him so he doesn’t get nervous.”

Bill bit his lip, turning to pull open the front door to keep Harry from seeing him smile.  “All right, Harry.”

They put the trunk down on the walk and Bill leaned gently against the trunk, “I can wheel this out all right, why don’t you go get Hedwig and your bag and I’ll drive you over to your friend’s place.”

“Okay,” Harry said.  He turned and sprinted into the house.

Bill pulled the trunk out to his car and popped the boot to shove it inside.  He had bought the Discovery because sometimes he needed to transport things for his job that couldn’t be carried by magical means.  The Land Rover had seen him through a few interesting adventures in Egypt, and Gringotts had brought it back to England for him and he thought it would show him a few more adventures here too.

As he shut the trunk, Harry came out at a near run, Hedwig and her cage clutched to his chest and a duffle bag banging against his side.  “Everything all right?”  Bill asked as Harry slowed beside him.

“Fine,” Harry said, “just eager to get away from here.”

“Honestly, I don’t blame you,” Bill said.  “Put Hedwig in the back and let’s get going.”

Harry glanced over his shoulder for a moment, then nodded and situated himself and his owl.  “Turn right at the corner,” He told Bill as Bill started the car for what turned out to be a short trip.

Chris proved to be a Black boy with a bright smile who greeted Harry with a hug.

“Hey Chris,” Harry said, “this is Bill Weasley.  His youngest brother is my best friend.  Bill, this is Chris.”

“Nice to meet you, Mister Weasley,” Chris said.

“Please, it’s just Bill,” Bill said politely.  “I offered to drive Harry over since I’m taking his school stuff out to my family’s place today.”

“Chris, is Harry here?”  A pretty woman in a blue dress came out of the house, “hello.”

“Ms. Jean, this is Bill Weasley,” Harry said quickly.  “I’m going to be staying with his family next week, so Bill came to get my school stuff.  Bill, this is Chris’s mum, Jean Dunbar.”

“Mrs. Dunbar,” Bill said, shaking her hand.  “My little brother Ron is Harry’s best mate.  Since I’ve been working in London, I offered to bring Harry’s stuff out to the house today.”

“Nice to meet you, Mister Weasley,” Jean said with a smile, “call me Jean, please.  It’s nice to meet you; Harry said something about being picked up on Monday.”

“Yes, well,” Bill smiled, “I insist that you call me Bill.”  He hesitated to watch as Chris pulled Harry towards the house, talking softly.

“Is something wrong?”  Jean asked.

Bill shook his head, “No, but Harry’s godfather is arranging for a surprise party on Sunday for Harry.  He would have done it today, as its Harry’s actual birthday, but we all agreed that Harry would rather have the attention be on his friends for now.  Chris and the rest of the group are invited; I just didn’t want Harry to catch wind of this.”

“I didn’t know Harry’s birthday was this weekend,” Jean said.  “He didn’t say anything at all.”

“I don’t think he would,” Bill said softly.  “Do you think Chris and the others would want to come to the party?”

“I know they’d love to,” Jean said.  “I just don’t know what we’d get Harry though.”

Bill bit his lip, “The only thing I can think of is music.  I’ve gotten Harry a tape player and headphones myself, but I don’t really know the kind of music he’d like.”

“That’s actually perfect,” Jean said, “I know Chris’s favorites, and I’m sure the other parents can provide examples from their own children.  So we’ll be seeing you on Sunday then?”

“Yes,” Bill said.  “We’re planning to rent out a space.  Some of my brothers and my sister will be there, and Harry’s other best friend, Hermione.”

“Chris and the others will round out the guest lists, I’m sure of it,” Jean said, “just tell us where.”

HP NOB HP NOB HP

Le Meridien Piccadilly proved to be an exceptionally fancy hotel.  Harry thought the Dursleys would have been green with envy if they’d realized where Harry would be spending three nights and four days.

“Amazing, huh?”  Chris asked as they took the elevator to their rooms.

“Yes,” Harry said as he toyed with his room key.  “I’ve never actually stayed in a hotel before.”

“You’ll love it,” Lisa said as she slung her arm over his shoulder.  “There’s a pool and room service, and movies all night.”

“Lisa,” her mother said, “stop.  I don’t want any of you ordering movies and room service without asking first.  Don’t forget that none of this is actually free.  Don’t go doing something ‘just to show Harry’ or because ‘you thought it was free’.  Just ask.”

“Yes mum,” Lisa said.

“Don’t worry,” Chris said, “I won’t run up the bills Dad.”

Mr. Dunbar smiled at Chris, “I know, and I trust you.”

The elevator dinged and everybody filed off.  The Dunbar’s had rented a family room, which made Harry nervous.  He wasn’t sure how big the room would be, or what he’d find inside, but the sight of two beds didn’t really help.

“Everything okay?”  Chris asked as he hung a suit bag in the closet.

“There are only two beds,” Harry said.

“Yeah, is that a problem?”  Chris asked.

“Where will I sleep?”  Harry asked.

“We’re sharing a bed,” Chris said, “I told you we would.”

“No you didn’t,” Harry said.  “We don’t have to; I can sleep on the floor.”

“Hey,” Chris said, “this isn’t a hardship or something.  Unless you have issues sharing a bed with me.”

“No,” Harry said, “I just don’t want you to feel obligated to share the bed if you don’t want to.  I really don’t mind sleeping on the floor.”

“Something wrong boys?”  Mister Dunbar asked.

“Nope,” Chris said, “I need to talk to Harry in private, we’ll be on the balcony.”  He pressed his hand against Harry’s shoulder and urged him towards the sliding doors.  Harry dropped his duffle by the bed and allowed himself to be steered outside.  “Look,” Chris said as soon as he shut the door, “I have no problems with us both on that bed.  It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to share a bed, and it won’t be the last.  Frankly, as long as you don’t kick in your sleep or roll around, you’ll be up on the last three trips I made with my cousins, and if you don’t talk in your sleep, you’ll be up on my best friend back home as well.”

Harry hesitated, toying with the leather band on his wrist.  “I have nightmares,” he said finally.  “A boy was killed at school last year.  Dudley was saying… teasing really… that I was crying out for him in my sleep.  I don’t know if I kick or roll around or what have you, but I do have nightmares.”

Chris stared at Harry for a long moment, “If I thought you wouldn’t freak out, I’d hug you right now.  Harry, that’s okay.  I’m glad you warned me and I’m sorry about your friend.”

Harry shrugged, “I wouldn’t say he was a friend, exactly.  I knew of Cedric, he was older and in a different house, but we played sports.  Then that stupid…” he cut himself off, not able to look at Chris, afraid he’d said too much or would say too much.  “I’ve shared a room before, all the time at school, but I’ve never shared a bed.  The Dursleys never took me anywhere, and Mrs. Weasley sets up a cot.”

“That’s all right,” Chris said, “I thought for a bit that Lisa was right and you had a crush on me and that was what this was all about.”

Harry shook his head, but he could feel his cheeks growing warm.

“Hey, I’m not saying that’s a fate worse than death or anything,” Chris said.  “My best friend back home, he’s gay.  I don’t think it’s a big deal.  He’s gay, I’m biracial, and we’re both outcasts.”

Harry smiled a little, “I know that feeling.”  How could he not, famous before he could walk and talk, raised in a neglectful, unloving home, worshiped or ostracized depending on the gossip, only two people who cared enough to stick with him.  He hesitated, thinking of Neville, Ginny, and the twins.  They had all been strong supporters, although there had been that one instance first year, with the points.  “I’ve got two best friends, and four others who I know I can count on.”  He hesitated, glancing at Chris, “Maybe you and the others, but you won’t be there at school.”

“We’re here now,” Chris said with a shrug.

“Yeah,” Harry said softly.  That was a theme in his life since Hogwarts.  People weren’t in his life before for different reasons, but now they were there.

“Boys, is everything all right?”  Ms. Jean asked, opening the door and startling Harry from his thoughts.

“I think so,” Chris said, “right Harry?”

“Sure,” Harry said.

“We’ve got tickets to see some show that the Millers picked out,” Ms. Jean said, “and I’m sure you’re both starving.”

“You know me so well,” Chris said with a smile.

“Teenage boys,” Ms. Jean said, “we’re leaving in fifteen minutes.  It’s a nice restaurant, so please make a bit of an effort.”

Harry ducked his head, because while Ms. Jean wasn’t looking at him, he knew his hair wasn’t as neat as it could be.

“Do you mean the suit and tie?”  Chris asked.

“No,” Ms. Jean said, “but probably not jeans.”

Harry followed Chris back into the room as Chris followed his mom, complaining about dressing up.  He changed into a nice shirt and checked that his pants weren’t dirty or something.  Then he dug out his brush.

“Excuse me, Harry,” Ms. Jean said, “I was wondering about your hair.”

Harry sighed, “It never lays flat.  I’m sorry.”

“Well, I might have a suggestion,” Ms. Jean said, “not tonight, but tomorrow.  Chris and the others have to be at the Hall all afternoon for set up for tonight.  I know a salon not too far from here that specializes in hair like yours.  I’ve taken Chris there, and Mark had people at work recommend it.”

Harry glanced at Chris, and his neat cornrows, and then at Mr. Dunbar, and hesitantly nodded.  “I’d like that, thank you.”

Ms. Jean smiled, “Let’s get going then.  We don’t want to keep the others waiting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kept seeing this headcanon on Tumblr about Harry being biracial. That made me think and it just kept growing in the back of my mind. I decided that I not only liked this headcanon, but I wanted to write it for myself. That is all I am going to say, for now.


	6. Sunday in London 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not ashamed to admit this wandered away from me for a bit. Ended up splitting it into two parts. I'll have the second part out soon enough.

Ron followed Hermione into the library, where Ginny and the twins were waiting with Sirius.  “Everything all right?”  Sirius asked.

“Molly was trying to be subtle in asking Hermione when she was going to start dating Ron,” Remus said from behind him.  Ron jumped and stared at their former professor.  “Sorry Ron,” he said with a soft smile before closing the library doors.

Ron glanced nervously around the library, because as much time as he spent here with Hermione he still found the room to be unnerving.  Not only the size, comparable with the Hogwarts library, but the wood was dark and the lighting limited to where they were working.  It was uncomfortable to spend time in the library, and Ron was grateful for the rules that limited their access.

“What’s going on, Professor?”  Hermione asked hesitantly as she followed him over to the table the others were sitting.  Ron followed quickly, eager to settle down in the bright light.

“Well, we need a favor and then we have an offer,” Remus said as he sat down by Sirius.  “Come sit down, both of you.  I can’t promise that we aren’t about to get you all in trouble, but I’d like to think its trouble for a good cause.”

“Depends on the good cause,” Hermione said.

“Harry.”  Sirius said, completely serious for a change.

Ron glanced at Hermione nervously, but she smiled a little and slid into the seat next to Ginny.  Ron sat next to her, watching Sirius and Remus as they spoke softly to each other for a moment.  “What do you think is going on?”  He asked, leaning over to Hermione.

“No clue,” Hermione said.

“First the favor,” Remus said, looking at each of them, “that what we’re about to say, and possibly imply, go no further than this room, no matter what you think of the offer.  Not until telling people is pointless.”

Ron bit his lip, looking at the others.  Fred and George looked at each other, Fred raised his eyebrows, George smirked and they turned back, “We’re in.”

“I’m in, for Harry,” Ginny said quickly.

Ron looked at Hermione who was looking back him, “For Harry?”  He said tentatively.

Hermione nodded with a small smile, “For Harry.”

“Yesterday was Harry’s birthday.  Per his request, we asked you all not to send him anything just yet,” Remus said, looking at each of them slowly.  “At the time, I said it was because Harry would be here by the end of next week, but that’s not entirely accurate.”

“Harry’s in London,” Sirius said.  “He’s at a Muggle hotel with some friends he’s made over the summer, along with Bill and Tonks.  Remus has been there and will be going back tonight after we’re done talking.”

“Is that safe?”  Hermione asked.

“As safe as we could make it,” Sirius replied, “but Hermione, we want Harry to experience things, and being able to support his friends when they try to win the national singing competition is one of those things.”

“We wouldn’t have even said anything, but we had an idea,” Remus said.  “Since we got Harry to London for his birthday, we thought we’d go a little bit further.”

“We’re throwing him a surprise party tomorrow,” Sirius said eagerly.  “We’ve rented a restaurant party room near the hotel, and his Muggle friends will bring him.”

“We would like for all of you to be there too,” Remus continued.  “I’ve made arrangements for some non-magical gifts for you to present Harry tomorrow if you want to be there.”

“What about Mum?”  Ginny asked.

“Molly’s going to Diagon Alley for me tomorrow,” Sirius said, “to get me some more clothes and pick up some things we ordered for Harry to have.  You would leave with Remus then, via the front door and I will stay here.  When Molly gets back, I’ll tell her exactly where you are in the most dragged out manner, point out that the Muggles will be there, and let her figure out what to do.  You’ll be back here by ten.”

“Seven,” Remus said firmly.

“Ten,” Sirius said firmly.  “With a wonderful evening behind you and on Monday, Harry will be here.  You especially can’t tell that part to anyone.  Up until Bill and Tonks escort Harry through the front door, we want to maintain the fiction that the whole thing was plotted simply to let Harry have a bit of fun in the middle of a long and boring holiday that worked because nobody knew it was happening.”

“You’ll be back before dark,” Remus said, “There are certain bounds we do not want to cross Molly Weasley on.”

Sirius leaned forward, silver eyes shining, “He’s so _intense_ about these things.  No sense of adventure.  He even thought curfew was reasonable!  We loosened him up once, I’ll do it again.”

“I know that feeling,” Ron said without thought, glancing over at Hermione.  “Did he ever say something about being killed or worse expelled?”

“Ron!”  Hermione said, smacking his arm.

“You did!”  Ron said.  “You know it.”

“He didn’t,” Sirius said with a bark of laughter, “but it sounds like something he would say.”

Ron grinned at Sirius, feeling for a brief moment that he understood the strange, dark man who haunted the house until Harry’s name came up.  A man who always appeared when Harry was discussed, from nowhere and everywhere, desperate to know about the boy he had run to protect.

Then Sirius’s eyes darkened slightly, “You’ll go with him though, right?”

“Of course,” Ron said eagerly.

“Even though you’ll have to blend in with Muggles?”  Hermione asked.

“It won’t be too hard,” Fred said, “just don’t mention magic, right Fred.”

“Yup,” George said, “we do it all the time.”

“What could possibly go wrong,” Fred and George said in unison.

Ron tried to swallow as his mouth suddenly went dry.

HP NOB HP NOB HP NOB HP

Chris burst into the hotel room, grinning fit to burst.  “Harry, get your coat.  We’re going out!”

Harry jumped of the bed, “Chris!  What…  I thought you were doing that press thing.”

“We were,” Chris said, “but now we’re going out.  Come on, everyone’s waiting on you.”

“Where are we going?”  Harry asked as he stood and straightened his clothes.  He reached up to smooth his hair.

“Stop,” Chris said, “you look fine.  Very flattering, according to Mom and everyone else who’s seen you.  Let’s go.”

“It’s too hot for a jacket,” Harry said as he checked for his wallet, “so I’m ready.”

Chris grinned and led the way down to the lobby where the rest of the group was waiting.  “He was just hanging around on the bed, pouting.”

“I was not!”  Harry said, “I was singing.  You just caught me between songs.”

“Shame,” Mal said, grabbing Harry’s arm, “I like your singing.”

“Maybe I’ll sing again later,” Harry said.  “Where are your parents?”

“They’re doing something else,” Chris said.

“Come along, Harry, everyone.  We don’t want to be late.”  Mrs. Miller said as she approached the group.  “Our ride is here.”

“I’m sorry, but where are we going?”  Harry asked as he allowed Mal to drag him out of the hotel.

“It’s a surprise,” Mal said, “You’ll like it.”

A van was waiting for them outside and when Harry would have hesitated, Mal yanked, Otto pushed, and Harry stumbled into the van.  “Don’t you trust us?”  Lisa asked as she climbed in after them.

“Well,” Harry said slowly, “yeah, I do.”

“Good,” Lisa said, “then let’s go.”

They arrived at a small restaurant a few blocks from the hotel and Harry allowed himself to be unceremoniously pulled out and into the restaurant.  The maître de stared at them for a moment, “Do you have a reservation?”  He asked finally.

“Yes, we’re part of the Potter Party,” Mrs. Miller replied, “I believe we’re the last of the expected.”

“Indeed,” the maitre de sniffed, “come with me, please.”

Harry glanced around as Lisa and Mal steered him through the restaurant behind the maitre de, with Tyler, Otto, and Chris following.  Chris gave Harry an encouraging smile when Harry looked back, along with thumbs up.

The maitre de led them through a set of closed doors into a darkened room.  “A member of the wait staff will be here shortly to take your orders,” he said with another sniff before closing the doors.

“Guys?”  Harry asked as Mal and Lisa stepped away from him in the darkness.

The lights came on.

“Surprise, happy birthday Harry!”

Harry stared as his arms were suddenly filled by a person with very curly hair.  “Hermione?”  He asked.

“Hi Harry,” Hermione said, stepping back.  “How are you?”

“Confused,” Harry said with a nod.  “Very confused.”  He glanced around the room, Ron, Ginny, Fred, George, Bill, Tonks and Remus were scattered around the room, all grinning like mad.

“What did you do to your hair, mate?”  Ron asked.

Harry touched it reflexively, “Does it look that awful?”

“No,” Hermione said, “you look great.”

“See,” Chris said, “I told you.  I’m Chris Dunbar by the way.”

“I’m Hermione Granger,” Hermione said.  “These are Harry’s friends from school.  Ginny, Ron, Fred, and George Weasley.”

“I’m Ginny,” Ginny said with a little wave.

“I would hope so,” Mal said, “are you really the only girl in your family?  Do you really have sev-“

Harry whistled softly as Otto held Mal close with a hand over her mouth.  “Sorry about Mal,” Lisa said easily.  “She gets excited easily.  I’m Lisa and she’s Mallory, or Mal.  Her gag is Otto, and last we have Tyler.”

Otto yelped and leaped away from Mal, “She bit me!”

“Mal,” Lisa said with a sigh.

“He tastes awful,” Mal said cheerfully.

Harry laughed as he was freed from Hermione’s hug and stepped forward to clap Ron on the shoulder, “Good to see you mate.  Hope your summer wasn’t too boring.”

Ron gave Harry a mournful look, “I’ve been cleaning and when I wasn’t doing that, I was doing _homework._ ”

“Sounds like most of my summer,” Harry said, “although the Dursleys have been acting odd this past week or so.”

“I’ll explain that later,” Remus said with a quiet smile.  “For now, do we want to eat or do presents?”

“Presents?”  Harry said softly.

“Did you expect a birthday without presents?”  Tyler asked, “Of course we got you presents.”

“Let’s do that first,” Chris said.

“Harry, it’s your party,” Bill said.

Harry spread his hands out, trying to pretend he didn’t understand the looks going between the adults.  He’d seen that look before, usually shared between Mr. and Mrs. Weasley last summer when he’d been surprised by some small kindness.  “I’m not hungry yet, so let’s do presents.”

He hadn’t really expected more than some token gifts, he knew the Weasleys didn’t have much money and would have bought him wizarding gifts that couldn’t be opened in front of Muggles.  His Muggle friends wouldn’t have had enough warning to actually shop much either, given that he hadn’t told them when his birthday was and the only time he could think of any of them finding out would have been from Bill on Friday.

Remus and Bill, however, presented him with a stack of gifts.  “Here,” Bill said, handing him one wrapped in red and gold paper, “This is from me and Charlie.  There’s a story behind this, but I’ll tell you that later.”

Harry nodded, “Thank you, Bill.”  He slid his finger under the tape and began carefully to unwrap the gift.

“Oh come on Harry,” Ron whined, “rip into it!  You do that every Christmas!”

Harry glanced at Lisa, who smirked back at him in understanding.  She had celebrated her birthday last week and had admitted to him afterwards that she liked opening her presents slowly on her birthday because it was funny to see people react.  “Perhaps I want to enjoy this,” he mused, “draw it out a bit.”  He cleared off the paper, and Remus collected it while he opened the box.

“It’s a Walkman,” Lisa said.

“Cool,” Harry said, as he read the birthday card that had been tucked into the box.  It had a short post script, _will work at school too._ He made a mental note to ask Bill about that later.  “Now I can have music at school without bothering people, _and_ I’ll be able to hear it.”

“These are from us,” Chris said, pointing at a small stack.

“Mom and Dad got them yesterday,” Tyler said with a grin.

Harry nodded and started to open them.  Cassette tapes containing favorite artists of his friends, people he himself had enjoyed hearing them sing.  “This is good,” Harry said, “I was just thinking I needed tapes to listen to.”  He glanced over and saw Bill whispering something in Ron’s ear, and Ron was nodding.

“If we’d known it was your birthday, we would have done more,” Lisa said, “but since you didn’t _tell_ us.”

“I didn’t want to make a big deal about it,” Harry said as he restacked the tapes.  “You needed to concentrate on becoming the National Under-Sixteen Champions.”

“Still, your birthday,” Lisa said, “that’s kind of important.”

Harry rolled his eyes, “It’s just my birthday, okay?  If you want to make me happy you can sing for us later.”

“Deal,” Lisa said.

“We’ll sing,” Chris said firmly.

“Remus told me you were competing,” Hermione said, “but I hadn’t heard if you won.”

“Of course we did,” Tyler said proudly. 

“Congratulations,” Hermione said.  She reached over and tapped another of the red and gold packages, “This one’s from me.”

Harry opened it and grinned at the book, “Of course it’s a book.”  He held it up so that the others could see it, “Not too sure about the musical theater part.”

“I thought it could be useful,” Hermione said defensively, glancing over at Remus.

“No, it’s cool,” Harry said, “I’ll get a lot of use out of it.”

“Open mine,” Ron said eagerly.

Harry shook his head, reaching for his friend’s gift.  He could see some of the natural boundaries coming down when Hermione mentioned a book he’d seen Otto reading.  Ginny had sat down next to Mal, fielding the girl’s questions easily.  The twins were whispering together and glancing over at Tyler, but Harry saw Bill watching them from where he was talking with Tonks and knew that they would be fine.  All that was left to do would be to actually enjoy his party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, I can be found on Tumblr as Guardian of Hope ( http://guardian-of-hope.tumblr.com/ )
> 
> Second, I've been asked about future pairings for Harry in this story. Not of Blood is ostensibly gen, except for some slow groundwork for pairings in these early chapters. (Hermione/Ron being one of them) Part two of the story (untitled at the moment) crosses with Teen Wolf and will have canon Teen Wolf pairings as well as Sirius/Remus.
> 
> I am not looking at this as being a Harry/Ginny OTP happily ever after fic. In fact, I've mostly considered it to NOT be Harry/Ginny at all, but since I don't have a set pairing for Harry, I'm not ruling it out. I do know that it will NOT be Harry/Hermione OR Harry/Draco.
> 
> This is the only warning you'll see on the subject until I commit to Harry's future relationship and I'm only giving this warning because I don't want any of you to feel blindsided that a pairing you expect doesn't show, or if you disapprove of a pairing, you'll be aware of that as well.


	7. Sunday in London 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The party comes to an unexpected end and Harry finally gets the answer to a few of his questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the length of this chapter. It just kept growing and I didn't want to stop. The last thousand words or so are more info-dump than anything. If it's confusing, I apologize, I just kept thinking of some new fact, or pulling a fact or what have you. I think I've managed to explain a lot about those words I've been mentioning, Oidhre, teaglach, tuath, ceannir, cenedl, rialoir, and so forth. I do plan to come back to them through out the story, to introduce concepts and to show some of it in action.
> 
> I'm thinking it'll be two, possibly three chapters to get to Hogwarts. I've got the next two chapters started, but not finished. After that, it's a bit of a toss-up. I'll be using the book Order of the Phoenix for inspiration up until Christmas. By that, I mean that I will expand a few scenes, but mostly use specific events to spin off my own.
> 
>  
> 
> As always, I welcome questions. Also, if you've noticed my typos, it's because I don't actually have a beta and sometimes I miss things.

The party was going well, Harry’s friends mixing together with few hiccups, and the food was as good as the maître de’s attitude had implied.  Harry had been debating music theory with Chris when he saw Remus and Tonks both jerk slightly, exchange concerned glances, and hurry out of the room.

A loud bang from where Bill had yanked Fred’s chair out from under him distracted Harry.  “I suggest,” Bill said mildly, “that you put that away before I make _you_ drink it, Fred.”

“Aw Bill,” George said, “It wouldn’t have hurt anyone.”

“Probably not,” Bill agreed as he helped Fred up, “but I was under the impression that you both swore not to prank anyone today.  We want Harry’s friends to think we’re civilized, after all.”

Harry glanced at Chris who raised his eyebrows, “Fred and George are pranksters,” Harry said quietly.  “They invent a lot of things too.  I forgot to warn you.”

Chris chuckled, “It’s all right.  At least they haven’t pranked us yet.  Lisa has a thing about that.”

“Good thing or bad thing?”  Harry asked.

“A revenge thing,” Chris said.

Remus and Tonks returned then, looking worried.  “Mrs. Miller,” Tonks said, “may I speak with you?”

“Harry, Bill,” Remus said, “May I have a word?”

They gathered in a corner and Remus sighed.  “What’s going on?”  Bill asked.

“Dementors were in Little Whinging today.  The guard assigned to the Dursleys was Fletcher, and he’s been Kissed.”

Harry gripped Remus’s arm, feeling dizzy for a moment.

“What’s the plan?”  Bill asked as he rested a hand on Harry’s back.  It felt like a brand.

“We’re going to get Harry’s things from the hotel and go to headquarters now,” Remus said.  “Dumbledore knows you’re in London and insists.  Sirius and I are agreed because while we doubt that it was _his_ work, and it is possible they have simply gone rogue, it doesn’t feel that way.”

“All right,” Harry said with a nod, “what do I tell my friends?”

“We have a cover,” Remus said, “just go along with it.”  He stepped over to the table where the others were trying to overhear what was going on.  “I’m sorry,” Remus said, “but we have to cut things short today.”

“What’s going on?”  Ron asked.

“Molly’s figured out we snuck you guys out for the afternoon and is threatening Padfoot if we don’t get back now,” Remus said.  “We think it’s best for Harry to come tonight instead of tomorrow as planned.”

“Mum likes Harry, she’ll probably keep the lecture short,” Bill added.

“But that’s not fair,” Mal said, “Harry wasn’t supposed to leave until tomorrow.”

“It’s all right,” Harry said as he toyed with his leather cuff.  “I mean, I’m not happy about it, but Mrs. Weasley is one of those ladies that you don’t reason with, you just get out of her way.”  He smiled a little, “You guys did promise to sing for me before the party was over.”

Lisa nodded, gesturing, “We can do that.”

HP NOB HP NOB HP

After the song, Bill and Tonks steered the other Weasleys and Hermione from the room with Harry’s presents.  Remus quietly explained to Harry that while the twins would apparate themselves, Bill and Tonks would side-along Hermione, Ron, and Ginny.  Remus took Harry back with his friends to get Harry’s bag after the song was over, prompting more goodbyes before Remus steered him out of the hotel and heading for the underground.  “We’ll apparate in a moment,” Remus said.

“Okay,” Harry said.

They turned down a quiet side street, then into an alley.  “Have you ever apparated before?”  Remus asked.

“No,” Harry said.

“Then this will be a strange experience.  I suggest you take a deep breath, stand close and close your eyes,” Remus said.  Harry nodded and eased closer to Remus, trying not to stiffen when Remus wrapped his arm around Harry’s shoulders.  “Here we go,” Remus said.

The mildest description Harry could think of was that he felt as if he’d been squeezed through a tube, but he shook that feeling off by looking around.  The neighborhood must have been nice at one point, but that had been many years ago.  The buildings looked old and a touch rundown in the streetlights.

“Everything go all right?”  Someone asked.

Harry jumped, bumping Remus, as a tall black man stepped out of the shadows across from them.  “Well enough,” Remus said.  “What is written on the Book of Graymere in the Black Library?”

“Don’t feed the werewolf, he’ll never go away,” the man said.  “What really happened to Molly’s last batch of biscuits?”

“I gave them to Harry to make up for holding off his birthday gifts,” Remus said, “Sirius covered by claiming that Snape stole them.”

The man chuckled, “Indeed, I saw you putting them in the box.  This is Harry Potter then.”

“Yes,” Harry said.

“Harry, this is Kingsley Shacklebolt.”  Remus said.

“Tonks’s partner?”  Harry asked, he’d heard stories from Tonks about her partner, but he hadn’t pictured someone that tall.

“I am,” Kingsley said.  “Dumbledore sent me to give you this, Mister Potter.”  He held out a piece of paper.  “I like your hair by the way, much different from your photos last year.”

“Thank you,” Harry said as he accepted the paper.  “A friend of mine, his mom insisted I see a stylist.”

“Your stylist has good taste,” Kingsley nodded.  “Read the paper and let’s get inside.  Molly wants to make sure you’re both okay.  Bill also said to tell you there was a mild mishap with the white box.”

Harry stared at the piece of paper as Remus asked tiredly, “How mild a mishap?”

_The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number 12 Grimmauld Place._

Harry glanced at Remus who nodded across the street.  Harry stared.  There was an extra door in the front of the row of houses, black, with a silver shape glinting in the streetlight.  “What?”  He asked.

“Magic,” Remus said.  “We need to go inside, be quiet in the front hall please.  There’s a portrait on the wall that screams like a banshee if we disturb her, she’s quite mad and we can’t get her down.  Sirius says it’s probably a permanent sticking charm.”

“Right,” Harry said.  He followed Remus across the road and up to the door, whose knocker was shaped like a snake.  He shuddered a little as Remus opened the door and stepped inside, feeling something like cold water trail over him as he crossed the threshold.

“The kitchen,” Kingsley said softly.

The house, what Harry could see of it, seemed to be dark and dingy, with a feeling of abandonment.  Remus led the way down a long hallway, past a set of black velvet curtains that looked moth-eaten and that fluttered a little as they passed.

The kitchen was brighter than the hallway, lit by candles, a fireplace, and floating globes that that managed to chase away most of the shadows.  Bill Weasley was standing, shame faced beside Mrs. Weasley, and Sirius was talking in a low voice to Dumbledore.

“Bill,” Remus said.

“I’m sorry,” Bill said, “I didn’t mean to drop the box.”

“It’s all right,” Remus said, “accidents are allowed to happen.  Mrs. Weasley, perhaps you would be willing consider assisting in replacing the contents of the box?  It was meant to be something for Harry.”

“Perhaps,” Molly said, blinking in surprise.

“Harry,” Sirius said, catching Harry’s attention.

“Hi,” Harry said, feeling suddenly shy.

“Good trip?”  Sirius asked.

“Not that bad,” Harry said.  It was amazing, he’d written Sirius almost daily for the past month and now he couldn’t think of anything to say.  Now, face to face with his godfather, he was tongue tied, and from the way Sirius was staring, he was the same way.

“I like your hair,” Sirius said.

“Thanks,” Harry said blushing, “a friend recommended it.”  He swallowed and glanced at Dumbledore, who was watching him impassively, “Hullo, Professor.”

“Harry,” Dumbledore said.  “Did you have a good weekend?”

Harry grinned, “Yes I did, Professor.  My friends were competing in a national competition and they won their division.  It was incredible.  I’ve never heard so many different singing styles.”

“I do wish you had let me know you were going,” Dumbledore said.

Harry nodded, forcing his grin away.  “Remus told me about Mister Fletcher.  I am sorry that it happened, but I don’t understand.  I thought the Ministry controlled the Dementors.”

“They claim that they do,” Dumbledore said, “but there are rogues out and about.  The ministry will, no doubt, blame the attack on an undetected rogue.  It is strange that they sought out the only wizard in the area.  Dementors are not usually that discriminating when they attack.”

Harry nodded, remembering his own encounters with the beings, “You don’t have to tell me that.”  He toyed with his wrist cuff nervously, “Remus and the Dursleys both said I could go, and Remus planned things out so that I wouldn’t be unprotected at the hotel.”

“Then I wish Remus would have included the Order in his plans,” Dumbledore said.

Remus cleared his throat, “Yes well, I know that you say you trust everyone in the Order, but we’ve been infiltrated before.  I thought an off-duty Auror and the Weasleys’ older brother would be an unremarkable pair to appear in public, particularly at the party today.  Tonks picks up guard work on her off days already.”

“I understand your thinking, but if we had known that Harry was not at the Dursleys, Mundungus would never have been at the Dursleys either.”  Dumbledore said.

“There’s an old Muggle saying,” Harry said quietly, “’loose lips sink ships’.  It means that things get out because people talk about it.  That’s the thing about secrets, people talk, even when they think they’re not being overheard, and things get out.  I think Remus and Sirius had the right of it.  The fewer people who knew I left Little Whinging this weekend, the fewer people who would talk about it in an unwise location.  Perhaps they should have told you, Professor, seeing as you’re the one who decided I needed guards this summer, but the Order?  Begging your pardon sir, but I spend ten months of the year on display at Hogwarts, gossiped about, targeted.  Last year, I couldn’t say anything anywhere without seeing it repeated and most likely misquoted, in the Daily Prophet.  I think asking for two months where my movements and words are not observed and discussed by complete strangers, particularly after how last year ended, is too much to ask.”

“Harry,” Mrs. Weasley said.

“Harry’s right,” Sirius said.  “I’ve been saying it all summer, even is none of you would listen to me.  Harry deserves to know things that will affect his life, because it’s _his_ life.”

“He’s just a boy,” Mrs. Weasley said.

“He’s fifteen,” Sirius replied, “by wizarding law, he’s the Oidhre, and that means there’s a lot he needs to know.”  He drew himself up, “Madame Weasley, while I am grateful for the care you provided Harry while I could not, allow me to remind you that my tolerance is not without limit.  I suggest you think again about how you act in my house.”  He turned to Dumbledore, “I suggest you consider the same warning to your Potions Professor.  I have been tolerant for the sake of our shared cause, but though you hold the Secret to number twelve, I hold the wards.  It would be unfortunate for the Professor to find his secondary escape route is no longer accessible, and it would be the result of his own choices.”

“Remind him that the punishment for attempted murder is 10 years,” Remus said.  “Sirius has severed time for what he did.”

“I will speak to Severus,” Dumbledore said.

“Thank you,” Sirius said, he smiled tentatively at Harry, “I know Remus and I keep promising later, but I think it’s late enough now to answer a few of your questions don’t you?”

Harry smiled back, “Yes, please.”

“I need to speak with Molly,” Remus said, “but I’m sure Hermione will be grateful for library access.”

“Of course,” Sirius said.  “Come on Harry; let’s go let Hermione into the library.”

“I’m surprised you got her out of a library,” Harry said as he followed Sirius back into the hall.

Sirius gestured for Harry to be quiet and glared at the curtains before heading up a set of stairs Harry hadn’t noticed earlier.  They were passing the first story when Ron and Hermione appeared, “Hey mate,” Ron said, “everything all right?”

Harry grinned, “Just fine.  Sirius and I were just going to the library.”

“You’re both welcome to come,” Sirius said.

“Let me get my notes,” Hermione said eagerly, all but running back down the hall and inside one of the rooms.

“Me too,” Ron said.  He gave Harry a quick grin, “Sirius is paying us to help organize the library, he said we needed pocket money for Hogwarts and he needed the books sorted.”

Harry nodded a little, “Good for you, Ron.”

“May I come to?”  Ginny asked, sticking her head out of the room that Hermione had entered.

“Why not,” Sirius said.  “I have to justify throwing galleons at the four of you somehow.”

Harry snorted, but followed when Sirius continued up stairs.  They reached another landing and Harry frowned, staring up, “How big is this place?”

“A lot bigger than it looks,” Sirius said, “it was built following World War II by an old construction enchanter.”

Harry eyed Sirius, “If you’re telling me it’s a time machine, I’m out of here.”

Sirius stared at him, “What?”

Harry shook his head with a little smile, “One of my Muggle friends, Mallory, we call her Mal, her family has been obsessed with Doctor Who for years.  They bought a VCR just to record the show.  We watched the all of their tapes last Thursday to distract them from the finals.  Doctor Who was a show about a funny man with a blue box who traveled through time and space.  His box was a time machine and it was bigger on the inside.”

“Huh,” Sirius said.

“No worries,” Harry said, “It was just a joke.  You promised me some answers though.”

“Right,” Sirius said, “the library’s in here.”  He pushed open a set of doors to reveal a room that rivaled the Hogwarts library in size.

“Wow,” Harry said as he followed Sirius inside.  “How did they build this?”

“With magic,” Ginny said, following him in with a smile.  “Enchanters use runes to control the size inside and outside of each individual room.  The house is built with a series of broom cupboards and loft spaces, and the Enchanter brings in the rooms and fits them into the spaces left for them.  All you need is to have a full size doorway and at least four feet square.  You can even fit two stories in a single cupboard.”

Harry smiled at her, “Sounds like something you’re interested in.”

Ginny blushed, “My granddad was an enchanter for a construction company.  He couldn’t build something like number 12, but he built the Burrow.  He used to tell stories all the time about building.”

“Harry,” Sirius called.

Harry blinked, “Right, sorry Gin.”  He turned away and hurried to where Sirius was settling at a table.

“All right,” Sirius said, “let’s start with your questions.  I’m sure you have a lot of them.”

“Do I,” Harry said.  He tapped his cuff, “I think this is affecting me.  I keep feeling like I should be angry, but I’m not.”

“Is that,” Sirius leaned over, tilting his head as he regarded it.  “That’s part of what that cuff does.  It helps you learn Occlumency.”

“Which keeps people from reading my mind,” Harry said.

Sirius smiled, “Part of that is emotional control.  Right now, it’s doing all the work, and part of that is keeping you from getting too upset.  If you were actually training, you’d learn how to do that on your own.  The cuff requires you to perform a series of tests to prove you have control independently, and then it will stop doing the work for you.  It’s the same with your music.  It starts by dampening everything magical, but as you start consciously directing it, you’ll be able to use your magic.  When you’ve completed all the tests, the cuff stops working because you are the master of your magic.”

“Cool,” Harry said.  He toyed with a minute, “Remus kept saying he’d explain about the Dursleys.”

Sirius chuckled, “He told me about that.  Harry, do you wear that in the shower?”

“No,” Harry said, “I don’t want to ruin the leather.”

“You wouldn’t, spelled against damage, including water,” Sirius said, “but that’s beside the point.  Harry, do you ever sing in the shower?”

Harry blushed, “Sometimes,” he admitted.

“Harry, you sing in the shower without wearing an inhibitor for your gift.”  Sirius said, unable to fight his growing grin.

Harry blinked and stared at the cuff, “Do you mean?”  He looked up at Sirius, then closed his eyes and slumped forward, “Oh bloody hell.”

“Hey, what’s wrong mate?”  Ron asked from somewhere behind him.

“I cursed the Dursleys,” Harry said.

“Sorry Harry,” Sirius said with a chuckle, “but we don’t speak table.”

“Sirius!”  Harry groaned, but he set up, twisting to look at his best friend.  “I cursed the Dursleys and I didn’t mean to!”

“How?”  Ron asked.

“Hold on,” Sirius said, “you can tell him Harry, but you both need to remember that by law, Ron, you _cannot tell anyone._ ”

“You’ve got a Gift,” Ron said, he hurried forward, “that’s wicked.  I haven’t got one that I know of.  Dad says I can get tested at Christmas though, just to make sure.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, “well I’ve got one; Remus said it runs in the family.  It’s called the Bardic Gift.”  He tapped the leather cuff, “This keeps me from just whistling up a storm or something, but only when I’m wearing it.”

“Why wouldn’t you wear it?”  Ron asked.

“Someone failed to tell me that it was waterproof, so I didn’t wear it in the shower.  I happen to sing in the shower.”  Harry said.

“And you… you cursed the Dursleys by singing in the shower,” Ron said, and laughed, “that’s wicked cool.  What happened?”

“They’re just nicer,” Harry said, “not like they actually like me or anything, but they weren’t acting like I was an unsanitary carpet stain.  Uncle Vernon even called me Harry, like voluntary and everything.  He didn’t even want anything.”

“I’m glad they’re nicer,” Ron said, “but promise me you won’t sing without it around here.  I don’t want to think of what you’d do to the twins.”

“I promise,” Harry said.  “I’m never taking it off again.”

“Ron,” Hermione called, “you still have a whole section to do.”

“Just a minute,” Ron called back.

“Wait,” Harry said, “hey Hermione, can you come over here please?  There’s something I want to tell you.”

“Can it wait?”  Hermione asked.

“Well it could,” Harry said, “but I just told Ron and it wouldn’t be fair if I didn’t tell you.”

“Fine,” Hermione said, appearing from out of the shelves a moment later.  “What’s so important you had to tell me now?”

“First, have you ever heard about magical gifts?”  Harry asked.

“A bit,” Hermione said, “but Muggleborns don’t always develop them so I only read one book about it.”

“Did you read about how illegal it is to discuss an underage person’s Gift?”  Sirius asked.

“Yes,” Hermione said, “there was a whole chapter devoted to the different laws.  What’s this about?”

Harry waved his hand with the leather cuff, “I have a Gift.  It… it manifested about two weeks ago.  It’s called the Bardic Gift, and it runs in my family.”

“Oh Harry,” Hermione said, “That’s amazing, congratulations.  I need to see what I can find out.”

“I have some books I can show you,” Sirius said, “and Harry picked a good one from his family vault you can see too, but only after Harry reads it.  Yes Harry, I’m insisting you read a book.  It was written by your great-grandfather and it will probably answer every question you didn’t know you had about being a Bard.  James and his father swore by that book.”

“I’ll read it,” Harry said.  “But you promised me some actual answers.”

“That I did,” Sirius agreed, “we should let Ron and Hermione get back to work.”

“Right,” Hermione said, “Ron, come on.”

Ron sighed, “Coming Hermione.”

Harry watched them disappear into the stacks, “Now,” he said, “what is an- an Oidhre, and why do people keep calling me that?”

“It means Heir,” Sirius said, “or Lord in Waiting.  It’s the proper title for the Heir of an ancient family like the Potters or the Blacks.  In your case, you’ll be called Oidhre Potter until you come of age.  Your son and heir will be called Oidhre until you die or abdicate.  It’s a reminder to people that you are from an old and powerful bloodline, with noble titles both Muggle and Magical.  It’s also a reminder to yourself that you have certain expectations to live up to.  It’s proper for everyone but family and close friends to call you Oidhre Potter because you’re over the age of fifteen and outside of Hogwarts.  In an effort to promote equality among students, in Hogwarts the Professors are required to refer to you as ‘Mister Potter’ or your first name as you desire.”

“Snape doesn’t,” Harry pointed out.  “I don’t think he’s called anyone a ‘Mister’ ever.”

“Well he’s supposed to,” Sirius said, “and it doesn’t surprise me that he isn’t.  Perhaps a complaint should be made about teachers becoming too familiar with their students.”  He trailed off for a minute.  “Never mind that for now.  Remus is coordinating with the Goblins; he’ll have copies of your family accounts sometime this week so you can understand just what you’ll be inheriting.  The Potters are old and rich, as the Oidhre, and later on as the Rialóir, you’ll be expected to at least know what you have and what its worth.  Rialóir means ruler, and it’s a title that is acknowledged these days, but it’s mostly just a word.  Traditionalists give it the most weight, but even the most diehard progressive will respect a Rialóir.  The most traditional meaning of a Rialóir is a person who heads up a tribe of wizards.  We wizards never really bought into the feudal system, we’re too independent.”

Harry had to grin at Sirius’s smirk. 

“Instead a powerful wizard or family of wizards would bring in less powerful wizards and families to protect them.  Families are refer to blood kin, and the word for them is teaghlach.  A rialóir will have a council, called the ceannair, or leaders.  Each ceannair speaks for his cenedl or clan, which is made up of groups of teaghlach.  The rialóir appoints his ceannair at will.  The rialóir also would approve the adoption of an orphan or a Muggleborn child into the tuath.  There were several was this could happen.  A teaghlach could sponsor the child, providing them with financial assistance, education, and in time the child either would marry into a part of the tuath or could be approved to start a new teaghlach under their rialóir.  Two or three hundred years back, Hermione could have built her own tuath from scratch if she’d wanted to.  In theory she still can, but no one would accept it except maybe the Goblins and the ministry.”

“You don’t know Hermione,” Harry said, “If she wanted it, she would make it happen.”

“Maybe so,” Sirius said.  “Today, the progressives hold more sway than the traditionalists.  They believe that every house, and by that they mean bloodline, should stand alone.  They don’t approve of fostering or sponsoring someone not in the bloodline.  They think that wizards should have allies, or friends, but only marriage can bring two houses together.  An amusing fact is that the Death Eaters are more for the progressive belief of houses and bloodlines than they are the traditional that powerful wizards should protect and support weaker wizards, especially considering that Voldemort has adopted the tuath system as far as we could ever tell.  Oh, there are progressives fighting Voldemort too, but most of the true traditionalists either stand neutral or take Dumbledore’s side because we welcome and embrace the muggleborns and their families.”

“I thought the purebloods sided with Voldemort because they didn’t want to lose their traditions,” Harry said.

“Oh, but you should ask them which traditions they believe in.  The Blacks, for example, believe anything that makes them superior to anyone.  Two plagues, two world wars, and two dark lords diminished their old Tuath so that even if I would be called Rialóir by title, we consist of a small, broken house these days.  Most of the ceannair are gone, marching in lockstep with the progressives, and the few that remain want little to do with a Rialóir who fully embraces the true meaning of his role.”  Sirius tilted his head a little, “Well, if I weren’t wanted by the ministry I would embrace my role.  The Weasleys are too progressive to accept sponsorship, but Hermione; she’s a girl who would go far with the right sponsor.  Remus wouldn’t have languished in poverty if James and I had been free to take our roles.  We had so many plans,” Sirius sighed.

“I think that’s enough, Sirius,” Remus said as he approached the table.  “Molly has agreed to replace what was destroyed and Bill has gone to fetch ingredients.  I suggest we let Harry catch up with Ron and Hermione for a bit while he adjusts to what you told him.”

“And what will I be doing?”  Sirius asked with a smile.

Remus leaned against his chair, putting his arms around Sirius’s neck, “I could make a suggestion.”

Harry fled before he actually saw them kiss.  Sirius and Remus had given him a lot to think about, and not just about his family.


	8. Trouble

Harry’s first morning in Sirius’s house started with a bang.  Literally.  Fred and George apparated into the room, set off a firework, and vanished.

Harry jerked and fell out of bed with a yell.  He could hear Ron moving so he felt his way to the nightstand and fumbled for his glasses and his leather cuff.  “Bloody hell,” Ron said as Harry pulled his glasses on.  “What go into those two?”

Harry shrugged as he tightened the cuff, “It’s Fred and George, I thought they didn’t need a reason to be strange.”

Ron laughed, “Too right.  Hey, did you take that off last night?”

“Yeah,” Harry said.  “It was irritating my wrist and I hit myself in the head with it.  I figured that if anyone surprised me awake, they’d deserve it if I screamed at them.”

“What happens when you do that?”  Ron asked.

Harry shrugged, “No clue, but it’s the first thing in that journal Sirius mentioned.  Don’t scream if you don’t want to face the consequences.”

“I’ll make a point not to surprise you then,” Ron said.

Harry fought his way out of his covers and moved back, “Want to see something cool though?”

“Sure,” Ron said.

“You have to come stand by me though,” Harry said, “I’ve never done this with someone right in the middle.”

“Okay,” Ron said, scrambling out of bed and hurrying to stand by Harry.

Harry nodded a little, thinking.  He could do this, but he usually just sang that Mary Poppins song, and he didn’t want Ron to laugh at him for it.  Then he thought of the movies that his friends had insisted he watch when they found out how strict the Dursleys were.  Mal had insisted on a Disney marathon.  He grinned a little and did a quick mental translation of the song he’d thought of into a whistle.

The song from Cinderella was catchy, with a bouncy melody that was easy to whistle.  In moments, the bed covers were lifting off the floor and resettling on his bed, and Ron’s sheets were straightening out as well.  The beds made, all of the laundry gathered into two piles, one for him and one for Ron.  The things scattered across the room resettled themselves, books neatened up and their shoes clattered over to sit by their trunks.

“Wicked,” Ron said.

“Handy too,” Harry said.  “I can’t do dishes yet, not enough control, but chores are a lot easier now.”

“I’m glad you’re here then,” Ron said, “Sirius and Mum have some sort of deal about restoring this place and that means we have to help Mum.  You’ll make things go a lot easier, I’m sure.”

“I’ll do what I can,” Harry said.  “Let’s get down to breakfast, I’d hate for your mum to have actually sent the twins up to wake us up and we ignored them.”

“Good point,” Ron said.

They hurried to dress and head downstairs.  The twins were at the large table in the kitchen with Remus, Sirius, and Hermione.  Mrs. Weasley was cooking at the stove and Sirius was roaring with laughter while the twins grinned proudly.

“Good morning,” Harry said as he followed Ron over to the table.  “Hello, Mrs. Weasley.  Do you need any help?”

“No, I’ve got it Harry.  Thank you for asking,” Mrs. Weasley said with a smile.

“If you’re sure,” Harry said as he sat down beside Ron and across from Sirius.  He turned to the now calm Sirius, “Sirius, can I have a moment of your time after breakfast?”

“Sure,” Sirius said, “not a problem.  You know, you can call me Padfoot if you want.”

Harry smiled, “I’ll try, Padfoot.”

“Padfoot!”  Fred and George said, stunned.

Harry smirked, “Moony, would you mind helping me with my homework later?  I want to be sure that I got it right.  Snape would love an excuse to give me a hard time.”

“Moony,” Fred and George said.

“Yes, they were our school nicknames,” Remus said.  “Harry’s dad was called Prongs if you must know.”

“Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs,” George said solemnly.

“Are proud to present,” Fred finished.

“The Marauder’s Map,” Sirius said.

“You made it,” George said.

“We did,” Remus agreed, “during school.  It’s amazing what you can find in the Hogwarts’s library if you’re brave enough to look.”

The twins looked at him suspiciously, but Sirius only laughed, “He’s right.  The library at Hogwarts has everything if you’re brave enough to look.  The things we looked up.”

“Here’s breakfast,” Molly announced just before platters of eggs, pancakes, sausage, and toast settled on the table.

“Thanks Mrs. Weasley,” Harry said, echoed by the rest of the table.

“Oh Harry,” Mrs. Weasley said, “I almost forgot, you’ve got a letter.”  She handed it to Harry as she headed for the table, “Now where is Ginny, you boys did wake her up, didn’t you?”

“Yes mum,” Fred said.

“She said she’d be down in a minute,” Hermione said.  “She was heading into the bathroom.”

Harry looked up from the letter, “Sirius, look at this.”  He handed the letter over and sat back, watching.

Sirius scanned the letter as he munched on a sausage, and then nudged Remus who leaned over to look.  “That’s not good,” Remus said.

“What?”  Ron asked.

“Harry, I’m sorry but we’re going to need to have a private conversation after breakfast,” Remus said, “its exceptionally important.”

“That won’t be a problem,” Harry said as he began to put food on his plate.  “I mean it looked really important.”

“Oh it is,” Sirius said, “but it’s not like we can do something about it right this moment.  Eat your breakfast and then we’ll talk.”

“What’s going on?”  Ron asked.

“Nothing,” Remus said, “eat your breakfast.”

“But,” Hermione said.

“Please,” Harry said, “I’ll explain later.  I promise.  The moment you can help me with this, you’ll know.”

Hermione stared at Harry for a moment, a piece of toast held over her plate.  “Harry,” she said quietly.

“It’ll be okay.  Trust me,” Harry gave her a smile and focused a little bit, “Eat your toast, Hermione.”

Hermione jerked and looked down at her hand before taking a bite obediently.

Harry glanced at Remus who only raised an eyebrow at him before sipping his tea.  Harry grinned a little and focused on eating his breakfast.  He wasn’t big on the fact that his powers could control people, but he didn’t want to make a big deal about that letter until he heard Remus and Sirius’s take on it.  There was something strange about it, something inside of him was saying it was trouble and he couldn’t help it, he liked trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Cinderella work song(? I think) If you need lyrics: Cinderella, Cinderella, night and day it's Cinderella. (Harry has a strong affinity to Cinderella, okay?)


	9. The Ministry

Harry bit his lip as Sirius slipped into the hallways, “All right pup,” Sirius said, “you asked me to get up early, what’s going on?”

“I want to prank the twins,” Harry said.  “I need your help to get inside and make sure I don’t wake anybody else up.”

Sirius grinned, “Do you have a plan?”

“I’m going to sing the most obnoxious song I can think of that fits the moment,” Harry replied.

“And you want me to get you in there and make sure you don’t wake anyone else up,” Sirius said.

“Yes sir,” Harry said nervously.

“Don’t call me sir,” Sirius said.  “That’s all you need.”

Harry hesitated, “Well,” he said, “it depends.  How good are you at howling?”

If anything, Sirius’s grin got bigger.

………

Harry set his feet, glancing nervously at the transformed Sirius, who nodded.  He rubbed the bracelet, took a proper breath and began to sing.  **“** **Nants ingonyama bagithi Baba.”**

Sirius howled along with him as Harry continued to sing, sending the twins jumping out of bed with their hands over their ears.  Harry grinned as he stopped singing, “Good morning.  Wouldn’t Mrs. Weasley be surprised to see you up so early and eager to work on a summer day?”  He opened the door, let Sirius slipped past him and closed it behind them.

Harry grinned at Sirius as his godfather shifted, “Thank you,” he said, “that was awesome.”

Sirius grinned back, “It really was.”

Harry sighed, “I needed that, because I got the feeling that the rest of today will be a huge hassle.  I do not want to do this.”

“Sorry that you have to,” Sirius said.

………

Harry smoothed his robes and strode to the front desk at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.  

"Excuse me," he said politely to the Wizard guarding the desk.

"Yes, how may I help..." the Wizard looked up from his magazine and gasped, "You're Harry Potter."

"Oidhre," Harry said softly, but firmly.  He held up the letter, "I've received a summons for a meeting with Auror Carmen Franz about the Dementor attack in Little Whinging."

"I'll get Auror Franz," the man said and hurried back into an area filled with desks.

The wizard spoke with a tall, dark witch who frowned, then looked at Harry.  Harry stared back, unwilling to be intimidated by this woman.  Finally, she nodded slightly and strode to the desk.  

"Oidhre Potter," she said when she was in hearing distance, "may I see the summons you received?"

Harry nodded and handed it over, "Yes ma'am."

The Auror skimmed the paper, and then she looked up at Harry, "I'm sorry, there must be some mistake.  I didn't send you a summons."

“Then how do you explain it,” Harry asked quietly, but firmly.

“I don’t know,” Franz said.  “I think we should discuss this with Madame Bones, Oidhre.  I’m sure there must be an explanation for this.  If you would come with me.”

“Of course,” Harry said, “I want to get this settled as easily as possible.”  The smile felt fake as he added, “I have nothing but respect for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.”

Franz raised an eyebrow, and the wizard made an odd coughing noise.  “We should wait for Amelia at her office, Oidhre.”  She turned and walked away, leaving Harry to hurry after.  “And for the record, you should try that in the mirror a few times before trying it on one of us.  You’re spectacularly bad at lying.”

Harry smiled, “Who said I was lying?  When the Department does its job, it’s worthy of respect.  I know there aren’t many of you still working from ten years ago after all.”

Franz looked at him, “What happened ten years ago?”

“It was more like twelve,” Harry said, “and someone, who’s name sounds remarkably like _couch,_ put an innocent man in Azkaban without a trial.  Hypocritically, Mister Couch did give his son a trial some weeks after the innocent man was put away.”

“Really,” Franz said.

“Really, really,” Harry replied.  He shrugged, “I can’t really say anything, but it’s real interesting that with the number of articles painting me as a delusional madman, there hasn’t been any real investigation into the two prominent incidents they’re using for fuel.”

“What incidents?”  Franz asked.

“The escape of Sirius Black from Hogwarts and the death of Cedric Diggory,” Harry replied.  “I understand that calling in Professor Lupin is inadvisable seeing as his testimony is inadmissible in court, but there were three known witnesses to Sirius Black in addition to the Potions Master who were never questioned.  Also, I would have thought, regardless of the circumstance, the fact that Cedric Diggory died from Avada Kedarva was strange enough to warrant investigation.”  He looked away from Franz, trying to remember the lessons that Sirius and Remus had given him all of yesterday to prepare.  Remus had explained that his Gift allowed him to mimic people, and that seeing and hearing the lessons would help him as much as any lecture.  He sighed and glanced up at her, “I miss the days when my worst nightmare was a flash of green light and a sharp pain in my forehead.  I got a lot more sleep back then.”

Whatever Auror Franz would have said in response was interrupted by the approach of two women, one of them wearing a monocle and the other with a pink cardigan and bow.  Harry studied them for a moment, thinking that the woman with the monocle would have been a peer of Lady Longbottom and Professor McGonagall if her pursed lips and stern glare were any judge, despite the fact that he judged her several years younger than either woman.  The second woman looked disgustingly like a simpering toad, but she gave Harry the same sense of disgust he felt around Voldemort and Wormtail.  He paused for a moment before realizing he didn’t get that same feeling from Professor Snape, a man he had interacted with regularly for years and who he disliked almost as much as the man hated him.

“Mister Potter,” the monocle wearer began.

“Oidhre,” Harry corrected her coldly.  When she hesitated, Harry went on, “I am over the age of fifteen and not at Hogwarts.  As this is a formal setting, by the bylaws of this very ministry, the proper title for myself is Oidhre.”

“My apologies, Oidhre Potter,” the woman said, “I am Madame Amelia Bones, Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.  I would very much like to know why you are up here, in my department when you were to have been in Courtroom Ten an hour ago.”

“I was not informed that I was supposed to be in Courtroom Ten an hour ago,” Harry replied.  “The notice I received yesterday morning, barely making the twenty four hour mark, mind you, said to be here, in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, to meet with Auror Franz.  A notice that Auror Franz said she never sent.”  He shifted his arm enough to free his wand, “Furthermore, I, Harry James Potter, _Oidhre_ and _rialóir_ of the Potter _tuath,_ swear upon my magic that this is the only communication I have received from the Ministry since my departure on the Hogwarts Express.  I have not seen, handled, smelled, tasted, or heard of any other communication directed to me by the Ministry of Magic.”  He lifted his wand and said in his strongest tone, “ _Lumos.”_

The light from his wand was brilliant and steady, making everyone blink and look away.  “Nox.”  He muttered and lowered his wand.

“A brilliant play, Oidhre,” Madame Bones said.

“I would have said it was enlightening,” Harry offered, trying not to grin.  “Why was I required to be in Courtroom Ten, Madame Bones?”

“There was a charge that you used underage sorcery this weekend,” the unidentified woman replied.  “There is report of a patronus charm being used in Little Whinging on Sunday.”

“I don’t know who cast that charm,” Harry said, “but I was not _in_ Little Whinging on Sunday.  I was in London with some Muggle friends.  I believe there are some shots of me by the Muggle press celebrating my friends’ win in the National A Capella Under Sixteen Finals, and furthermore, I spent the afternoon under the eyes of one of your aurors, Madame Bones.  I was given to understand that Auror Tonks was contracted as security and supervision during the surprise birthday party my friends hosted in my honor.”

“It seems you have an answer for everything,” the woman said with a nasty smile.

Harry sketched a slight bow, “Forgive me, I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.”

“Madame Delores Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister,” Madame Bones said.

“Madame Umbridge,” Harry said, giving her a polite smile.  “I would not say that I have an answer for everything, merely that I have fortunately had an answer for the questions I have been asked.  However, if you feel that it is insufficient to hear the testimony of a single Auror in good standing as I believe Auror Tonks is, and a curse breaker for Gringotts in good standing as William Weasley is, I believe there is a spell that might be placed upon my wand to prove that I have not cast a patronus charm recently.”

Harry had long been inured to looks of disgust, but there was an extra dose of hatred in the way Madame Umbridge regarded him.  “That won’t be necessary,” she sniffed.  “Clearly this was a misunderstanding in the Department, Madame Bones.  I trust appropriate actions will be taken?”

Madame Bones nodded once, “I will begin the internal investigation immediately, Senior Undersecretary.”

“I will leave you to it then,” Madame Umbridge said and flounced away.

Harry raised his eyebrows for a moment, and then looked at Madame Bones, “Is there anything else I am needed for, Madame Bones?”

“No, Oidhre,” Madame Bones said, “at the moment, there is nothing.  I do apologize for these mix ups.”

“It was no harm done,” Harry said, “as I said before, I have nothing but respect for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.  If there was anything I could have done for that poor man, I would do it in a heartbeat.”

Madame Bones studied him for a long moment with a frown, “Agent Franz, please escort the Oidhre back to the floo access point, and see that he returns home safely.”

“Yes, Director,” Franz said.

Harry followed Franz back to the lifts, smiling a little when the one they entered was empty.

“Oidhre,” Franz said, “I can’t open an investigation on a whim.  If you could give me something, anything.”

“Actually,” Harry said, “I have a thought.  You can ask Percy Weasley this, as you know he is not fond of me.”

“Yes?”  Franz asked.

“Ask Percy how long he had his pet rat, Scabbers.  Then ask Professor McGonagall about the story the Marauders and the animal ears.”  Harry smiled at Franz, “I’m sure you’ll find both answers rather enlightening.  If you need any other clues, feel free to owl me at Hogwarts.”

“I will, Oidhre,” Franz said.

The lift open and Harry followed her to the floo, “I can make my way from here,” he told her as they waited.

“I’m required to see you safe,” Franz said.

Harry glanced around, “Well, I’m not taking the floo, Auror.  I have someone waiting to escort me.”  He smiled as Bill joined him.  “We can make our way from here; Bill won’t let me get lost.”

“Take care, Oidhre,” Franz said with a nod to Bill.

“Call me Harry,” Harry said, “if you do what I think you’re going to do, and then you’ll have earned my friendship.”

“I hope I live up to your expectations then,” Franz said before walking away.

“Short trip,” Bill said.

“Eh,” Harry shrugged, “it was interesting though.  Let’s get back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry's mannerisms here were copied from Sirius and Remus, it's part of his Bardic magic to be a mimic. There's a lot of thought behind his responses based on what he saw from Sirius and Remus as well as a few other influences in his life. (Up to and including the Dursleys.) That's why he's OOC but a somewhat sassy ooc. (I hope. That was my intent.)


	10. Bonding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the long delay in writing, I've been struggling with my focus. Holiday fever or something I guess. Anyways, another chapter here, and it's got some information and some fun, and I tried to keep Harry in character. I promise, I have two chapters in the rough draft stage and ideas for the one after that. It won't be so long until the next update.

“Hey Padfoot?”  Harry said, leaning into the library.

Sirius had been sitting in a chair balanced on two legs while he read a book with a lurid green cover.  By the time Harry had stepped fully into the library, Sirius and his chair were on the floor, and the green book was lying somewhere on the other side of the first bookshelf.

“Harry?”  Sirius said.

“Is this a bad time?”  Harry asked.

Sirius stared at him for a long moment, then blinked, “No, it’s okay.  You surprised me, but it’s okay.”  He rolled off the chair with a groan.  “I’m not doing that again anytime soon.”

Harry toyed with the corner of his book, watching as Sirius slowly climbed to his feet and picked up his chair.  Then Sirius turned in a circle while staring at the floor.

“If, uh, if you’re looking for your book,” Harry said carefully, “you threw it over the bookshelf.”  He gestured in the proper direction.

“Oh,” Sirius said, “I’ll find it in a minute.”  He rubbed his arm meditatively, “How can I help you, Harry?”

Harry blinked, “I was, I was wondering if you could help me with this.”  He held up his book.  “It’s about Bardic magic.”

Sirius frowned, “That’s not really something I know about, Harry.  However, I’ll do my best to help you figure it out.”

Harry smiled, “Thanks.  It’s this part here,” he opened the book and pointed to a passage, “about how the groups form.”

Sirius nodded and reached for the book, “Let me see.”

“There you are Harry!”  Hermione said, barging into the room.  “Mrs. Weasley said you needed to go pack.”

Harry shook his head, “I packed already.  Unless someone unpacked my trunk while I was looking for Padfoot.”

“But your room,” Hermione began.

“What do you mean?”  Harry asked.

“Your room looks like both trunks exploded,” Hermione said.  “Mrs. Weasley sent me to tell you…”

Harry frowned, because he knew he’d packed up his trunk.  He didn’t want another rush to the station in the morning after all.  He’d made sure everything was put away, including the new clothes Remus had bought for him.  In fact, Harry had made a point of cleaning up the room he shared with Ron every day.

“Hermione,” Harry said, “I’ll bet you two galleons that Fred and George are in their room snickering over their latest prank.”

Hermione frowned at him.

“I’ve cleaned up our room every day since I got here,” Harry continued, rubbing his bracelet.  “It’s good control practice for my gift.  If it looks as bad as you say, then someone did that.  My money’s on the twins.”

Hermione tilted her head a little and grinned, “I’m not betting against the twins, Harry.”

Harry blinked, “Does that mean you’ll bet on other things?”

“Absolutely not!”  Hermione was genuinely shocked, “Gambling is immoral, Harry.  Look at all the trouble Ludo Bagman got into last year.”

Harry grinned a little, “Look, if Mrs. Weasley asked, will you tell her that you told me?  Sirius was just explaining something about Bards for me.  I’ll go help Ron with the room as soon as Sirius and I are done.”

“All right,” Hermione said, looking only slightly mollified.

Harry hesitated, then put his hand on Hermione’s arm, “Look, the more questions I ask Sirius now, the less time I’ll spend trying to answer the questions on my own at school, and that’s time I’ll have for other things.”

Hermione frowned, and then her face cleared up, “Like studying for OWLs.”

“Exactly,” Harry said.  “So let me talk to Sirius, and you go on downstairs.  Isn’t Mrs. Weasley throwing a party for you and Ron becoming Prefects tonight?”

“Oh, yes,” Hermione said.  “I guess I should go.”

“Thanks for letting me know about my room,” Harry said as he watched Hermione leave.  She paused to give him a little wave.  Harry turned back to Sirius, who was staring at the book as if it was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen.  “What?”  Harry asked.

“You and Hermione,” Sirius said.

Harry shook his head, “She’s like my sister, Padfoot.”

Sirius’s grin was a bit sly, “Are you _sure?”_

Harry thought back to Chris, and nodded with a sigh, “Very sure.  Did you have an answer for me?”

“Actually, I do,” Sirius said.  “Have you studied anything about ritual magic?”

“No,” Harry said slowly.

Sirius frowned, “You should have covered it last year in Defense, if not Charms.”

Harry shook his head, “No, we didn’t cover anything like that.”

Sirius sighed, “Well, there aren’t many rituals used these days, but they’re used to expand power and even increase the strength of a casting.  The wards at Hogwarts were put up by a series of rituals, a mix that hasn’t come close to being replicated in centuries.  They’re done by people with the same gifts, like a group of Rune Masters making runic wards together, or Transfiguration masters creating a lasting transfiguration.  For Bards, that’s either a band or a choir, depending on the talents of the group.  I haven’t seen you playing the piano in the music room…”  Sirius eyed Harry.

Harry shook his head slowly, “I tried, and Chris taught me a bit when he was teaching me to read music, but it… it wasn’t right.”

“Your talent is best expressed vocally then,” Sirius nodded before frowning slightly, “Who’d have thought helping your father learn all this would be so useful, huh pup?”

Harry wrinkled his nose at Sirius, “Right, but how does me being a singer apply to rituals and groups?”

“Bardic rituals are done using songs, some of them original, others that are adapted from the common repertoire.  If a vocal Bard is present, then the words are used to help focus the drive of the ritual, like how when you sing your songs to clean your room or scrub the floor.  Add more Bards and you could go from just a little cleaning to creating a room that automatically folds clothes and puts them away, or dusts, or windows that remain clean no matter what.”  Sirius chuckled, “James wanted to start a group so he’d never have to clean his room again, but he never really liked singing or instruments.  Oh he _sang_ and he’d had violin and piano lessons since he was able to draw a bow or press a key, but he liked whistling, and it was a lot more subtle than hauling a violin into a battle.”

Harry nodded, snorting at the image of his dad dodging spell work and playing a violin at the same time.

“This book is talking about how to find and or create a bardic group that best enhances your own abilities,” Sirius continued.  “There’s a spell here that, when cast, can tell you exactly who would be your best choices.  Depending on how long their Gift has been active, they might seek you out if you did this, aware or not.”

“Is it a gease?”  Harry asked nervously.

“Not exactly,” Sirius said, looking at the book.  “If I understand this passage, it’s something they can ignore if they want to.  If, say, someone realized you cast the spell and all, they could refuse to answer it, or just anyone who didn’t want it.”  He closed the book and held it out to Harry, “Honestly, I think you should really consider doing that.  Voldemort doesn’t share power and he rules through fear more than anything.  He wouldn’t understand a group coming after him in battle, especially one that used music alongside their wands.”

“But even if I did, we’d have to train,” Harry pointed out as he tucked the book in his back pocket, “I’m barely understanding what I can do here, Sirius.”

“There’s an option for that too,” Sirius said, “one that I think you should seriously consider taking advantage of.  For powerful Gifts, especially a Gift like yours, that can link and create bonds, there’s a training option through Gringotts.  It’s a time spell.  It sends you to another time, either past or future depending, and you stay there for a year.  At the end of the year, you come back here.  You might change some, and things like having your arm cut off are the same as if you didn’t go, but you’ll have a _full year_ of training.  Remus and I discussed it, and if you feel this is something you want, we’ll take you to Gringotts to do it.  We’ll have to hire tutors on the other side, but we’ll teach you to fight Voldemort all the same.”

Harry nodded.  “I read something like that in my books, the time travel thing.  I have this feeling you might be right.  I need to think about this.”

“Ask questions,” Sirius urged.  “Some of your professors might have done the same thing, or know of an older student or two that did.  They can tell you about it if you ask.”

“I will,” Harry said.  “I need to get the room taken care of though.  I wouldn’t want Mrs. Weasley to come drag me out of bed to take care of it tomorrow.”

“You do that,” Sirius said.

“There you are,” Remus said, coming into the library.  “Everything okay?”

Harry smiled, “Sirius was just answering some questions for me.”

“Speaking of Sirius,” Remus said, holding something up, “I found them.”

“You did,” Sirius shot up grinning.

“You really need to do something about your trunk,” Remus said, “I’m surprised you kept so much school stuff after Hogwarts.”

Sirius shrugged, “I’ll get around to it later, this is more important.”  He held his hands out to Remus, flexing his fingers like he was inches away from snatching the items out of Remus’s hands.

Remus laughed and handed them over.

“Harry,” Sirius said, “we can’t promise that communication will be safe at Hogwarts.  As much as we disapprove of Albus’s actions this summer, and believe me, I disapprove a _lot,_ he had a point.  Letters can be intercepted or followed, and Hedwig is exceptionally noticeable.”  He held one of the objects to Harry, “This is a communication mirror.  They’re made in sets, and they work to allow two people to speak to each other.  The catch is that they can only connect to their ‘twin’ and no other.  Each set of mirrors has to be made in a very specific manner, and cannot be intercepted at all.  The only thing you have to do is set up a silencing charm or make sure there are no eavesdroppers.”

Harry took the mirror and studied it curiously.  “How does it work?”

“You simply say _Contact Padfoot_ and mine will alert me that you’re calling me.”  Sirius said.

“We don’t have the skill to change the activation codes,” Remus said softly, “so Sirius will have to say _Contact Prongs,_ but I thought you wouldn’t mind.”

“Not at all,” Harry said, holding the mirror to his chest, “This is better than a letter if I need help.  It’s not better than being _here_ of course, but…”

“But we’ll be talking to you,” Sirius said, “and you’ll be able to see us.”  He stepped closer and held his arm out.  Harry hesitated, then stepped forward to let his godfather give him a one armed hug.  It wasn’t easy, but he was beginning to like Sirius’s habit of hugging him this way.  It was less smothering but no less comforting than the crushing hugs that Mrs. Weasley and Hermione favored.

“Now, as I understand it, Ron is in your room cursing the twins to high heaven,” Remus said.

“Yeah,” Harry said reluctantly, “I should go help him.  The twins made our room a mess in their prank.”

Sirius squeezed Harry into his side quickly, “Go on then, and try out your spell while you’re at it.  It’ll be okay.”

“I’m thinking about it,” Harry said.  “I’ll see you at the party later.”


	11. Train Rides

Harry considered it a minor blessing that Sirius had agreed to stay behind when they left for the train station.  As Remus had pointed out, it was easier to say a private goodbye now, with them able to hug and speak, then to have Snuffles acting human-like in a crowded train station.  They had hugged before Sirius supervised Harry casting the spell that would identify the best people to join his new band, and then they were off, with Mrs. Weasley scolding the whole group while Moody watched the rear.

King’s Cross was filled with people moving about and the six teens found themselves pairing up, the twins with Moody, Remus with Harry and Ron, while Molly hung onto Ginny and Hermione.  They made it through the station and the barrier with a half hour to go.

Harry scanned the crowd as they milled about, exchanging glares with Malfoy for a moment before the crowd hid the blond from view.

“Prefect’s carriage, Harry,” Hermione said.

Harry blinked and turned, “I’m sorry, Hermione, what was that?”

“Honestly Harry,” Hermione said fondly, “Ron and I have to go to the Prefect’s carriage for a start of term meeting.  We’ll have to leave our trunks there, but we’ll come find you after that okay?”

Harry frowned, and then started when Ginny hooked her hand into his elbow, “Come on Harry.”  Ginny gave him a quick smile, “Let’s go find a carriage before they’re all taken.”

Harry let her pull him away with a final look over his shoulder as Hermione and Ron headed to the front of the train.

A quick survey of the train proved that the best they’d find outside of Slytherin territory was with Neville Longbottom and a blond reading an upside down newspaper.

“Hi Neville,” Harry said, “Mind if we join you?”

“Sure,” Neville said with a nervous smile.

“How was your summer?”  Harry asked after helping Ginny store their trunks.

“It was all right,” Neville said with a grin, “My Great-Uncle Algie brought me a plant from Assyria, _mimbulus mimbletonia_!”  He turned to his bag and pulled out a grey cactus covered in knots.  It pulsed slightly under the light from the window.

“That’s great,” Ginny began.

“What’s it used for?”  Harry asked, shooting Ginny a quick look.

“That’s what I’m going to find out,” Neville said, “I know it has a great defense measure, want to see?”  He pulled a crumpled feather from his pocket and moved to poke the plant.

“Don’t poke it!”  Harry said, startling Neville, “What happens if you poke it?”

Neville deflated slightly, “It- well, it’s supposed to squirt stink sap everywhere.”

Harry nodded, “I bet that’s awesome to watch, Neville.  Maybe we can get Professor Sprout to show us how it works, as a class demonstration or something.”

Neville smiled, “You really think so?”

“I don’t see why she wouldn’t,” Ginny offered carefully.

“Either that or if Malfoy gives us a hard time, you could target him,” Harry said.  “He’s a git and he’ll probably deserve it.  I bet people would pay money for that.”

“Good idea,” Neville said, grinning at Harry.  He glanced down, presumably to put the plant away, and made a soft noise.

“You okay?”  Harry asked.

“Yeah,” Neville said, he swallowed, “Yes, uh, nice- nice study aid?”

Harry glanced down to see that his braided leather cuff was clearly visible.  “It’s a family heirloom.”

It was practically a code to say that Harry had a Gift, and from the way Neville’s eyes widened, he understood that.  Instead of speaking, Neville held his hand out.  A silver ring with neat runes carved into it rested on his right hand.  A tacit admission.

“Hey Harry,” Ginny said, catching their attention, “this is Luna Lovegood; she’s a Ravenclaw in my year and an old friend.”

The blond girl looked over the top of her newspaper at him; her large, grey eyes were almost thoughtful.  “You’re Harry Potter,” she said.

“Yes I am,” Harry agreed.

“I’m pleased to meet you, Oidhre,” Luna said before lifting her paper back up.

Harry glanced at Ginny, who was digging around in the satchel that Remus had given her for her birthday.  Reminded, Harry dug into his own bag, “Want to see what I got for my birthday,” He asked Neville.

“Okay,” Neville said.

The door slammed open and Malfoy stalked in, prefect badge front and center on his robes.

“Do you often walk in on your parents naked?”  Harry asked, cutting Draco off midsneer, “Or do you just save your moments of appalling lack of manners for when you are unsupervised and in public?”

“Potter,” Malfoy began.

“You’ll have to forgive me, I only began my Oidhre training in August,” Harry continued as he rubbed his thumb over the leather cuff.  “I’m not sure about all the rules yet.  I was told that I’m a quick study though.”

Draco looked like he’d been slapped with a fish.

“I was recommended Alistair’s Guide, but it has to be at _least_ fifty years out of date,” Harry continued.  “I was just going to ask Neville, but you’re right here, maybe you can make a recommendation.  It’s always better to hear many opinions on an important subject.”

After a moment, Draco backed up and shut the door.

“What did you do?”  Ginny demanded.

Harry sighed, “I’ve got way too much to do this semester to worry about Malfoy.  That was just a trick to get me some breathing room to work with.”  He glanced at Neville, “Sorry to drag you into that.”

Neville held his hands up, “I’m not upset, I’m impressed.”

Harry smiled, “I have good test subjects.”

“Harry!”  Ginny snapped.

“No worries Gin, I would never do that to you or to anyone without reason or express consent.  For Malfoy, I did a thing where he’ll get distracted when he decides to torment us.  I was tempted to give him a compulsion to actually read the book, but that would have been too far.”  Harry gave Ginny a comforting smile.

“The compulsion?”  Neville guessed.

“The book,” Harry replied.  “Padfoot said it was cruel and unusual punishment.”

The compartment door opened again, this time to reveal Ron and Hermione.  Ron barely made sure the seat between Harry and Neville was cleared before he threw himself into it.

“Hi Neville,” Hermione said as she settled beside Ginny.

“Luna, this is Hermione, and you remember Ron,” Ginny said.  “This is Luna Lovegood, Hermione.  She’s a Ravenclaw in my year.”

Luna looked over the top of her paper for a moment, “Hello Ronald.”

“Did you have a good summer?”  Ron asked after Harry jammed his elbow in his friend’s side.

“Oh yes,” Luna said, “Daddy and I went to Sweden to look for Crumpled Horned Snorkacks.”

“Did you find any?”  Harry asked.

“No,” Luna said, “but Daddy says we can try Norway next.”

“But,” Hermione said, “but crumpled horned snorkacks _don’t exist.”_

“Neither did the duckbilled platypus until someone discovered them,” Harry said mildly as he dug in his back.  He looked up with a frown.

“Harry?”  Ron asked.

“It’s something Otto says,” Harry replied, “Mal and Chris are always arguing about animals because Chris’s dad has a stuffed jackalope and Mal refuses to believe it’s real.”

“What’s a jackalope?”  Ginny asked.

“A large jackrabbit with antlers,” Harry replied as he pulled out his tape player.  “This is what I got, Neville,” he held out the device.  “It runs off magic, not batteries, so it plays inside Hogwarts.”

“Cool,” Neville said.

“I’ve got a bunch of Muggle music tapes,” Harry continued, “and speakers so that a group can listen.  I’ve been promised tapes of Wizard groups for Christmas to expand my horizons.”  He fished out one tape, “My friends made me this one.  Remus brought it back when he went to make sure they had gotten back from London safe.  It’s a copy of the recording they did during the competitions this year.”

“Competitions?”  Neville asked.

“They’re Muggles,” Harry said, “and they won the National Under Sixteen A Capella Competition.  They’re really good.”

“We heard them sing at Harry’s birthday,” Hermione said, “they are very good.”  She sighed, “Ron, we’d better do a quick patrol before we get in trouble.  We’ll be back soon.”

“See if you can spot the trolley lady,” Harry said, “I’m starting to get hungry.”

“I’ll look,” Ron said as he followed Hermione out the door.

“Thanks,” Harry called as the door closed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I make no promises that the updates will continue in this manner. I had a spurt of inspiration. I hope you liked this. Remember, Harry's bracelet, among other things, helps him think without his emotions getting in the way. He'll react to some things a little differently.


	12. Connections

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter than normal, I know. Given that I do not want to end up writing every day they experience and what have you, the next eight chapters will span from September to the end of November before the wrap up to the story, so 11 to 12 more chapters. Enjoy!

For some reason the Great Hall felt different when Harry led Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Neville to the Gryffindor table.  After a moment of thought, Harry realized that it was the spell bringing candidates to his attention.  As he sat down, Harry scanned the crowd.

Neville looked almost scared as he sat beside Ginny, across from Harry.  His ring flashed in the candlelight again, a subtle reminder that Neville had gained a Gift of his own.  Harry smiled encouragingly at his friend before scanning the Gryffindor table.

It was laughter that brought Harry’s attention to Hermione’s roommates, fair-haired Fay Dunbar.  She had thrown her head back as she laughed, light glinting off a pair of metallic earrings that were easily the size of his palm.  She glanced up at him for a moment as her friend spoke to her, and then turned back to her conversation.

Turning to the Ravenclaws, Harry first noticed Luna, and the invisible bubble that had all of her classmates avoiding her.  Remembering her quiet presence on the train, Harry felt something rise within him that desperately wanted to hurt someone.  Luna was nice; she deserved to have friends, not the subtle shunning her housemates seemed to have adopted.

A pair of hugging students next caught Harry’s attention.  When they parted, Harry recognized them as being in his year, dark haired Chase Travers from Ravenclaw and a Hufflepuff called Shadow.  Chase had a reputation for being cheerful and friendly to everyone, willing to help any student who asked, and for hugs.  If Chase wasn’t in class, he was usually to be found hugging someone, or wrapping his arm around their shoulders, or leaning against them, or sitting on someone.  It was no secret that Chase liked physical contact.

Harry didn’t really know much about Shadow.  The swarthy teen was a staple of the Hufflepuff fifth years, although Harry couldn’t remember ever hearing him speak up in class.  As if realizing he was observed, Shadow looked across the hall, meeting Harry’s eyes boldly.

Someone bumped Shadow and he looked away, breaking the connection.  Harry blinked and his eyes settled on Hannah, who was chatting with her friend Susan.  She was wrapping the end of her now waist length braid around her fingers as she spoke.  Harry knew Hannah best for losing her head under pressure.  Last year there had been a bet going around as to how Hannah would mess up her exams _this_ time.

Harry shook his head slightly and then scanned the Slytherin table.  Almost immediately, his attention was drawn to Blaise Zabini and Tracy Davis.  The pair was speaking quietly to each other as they sat down at the outside of Draco’s group.  He almost thought they looked annoyed when Draco turned and spoke to them.

Harry sighed and looked at the staff table.  Hagrid wasn’t there, of course, and Harry could only hope that whatever was going on meant that Hagrid was only delayed, not injured or worse.  The other teachers were talking quietly, glancing at the tables on occasion before turning back to their conversations.

One face, however, was jarringly out of place.

“What’s the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister doing here?”  Harry blurted out, cutting over Hermione’s lecture to Ginny on fourth year runes.

“Who?”  Hermione asked.

“Next to Snape, that’s Madame Delores Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister,” Harry said.  “I met her when I had to go the Ministry.”

Hermione frowned, “She could be the new Defense teacher, but…”

“But what?”  Ginny asked.

“Even if Hogwarts pays its teachers a top dollar salary, she must have taken a huge pay cut to be a teacher,” Hermione said, “depending on her experience, she could make half what she did at the Ministry.  I remember what you said about her, Harry, and she didn’t sound like the type to willing cut her pay.”

“Not unless she’s getting something else out of it,” Neville offered slowly.  “Gran’s mentioned Umbridge before, she’s not openly for the pureblood agenda, but she has authored some bills that lean that way.”

“We’ll have to keep an eye on her,” Hermione said as the doors to the Hall opened and McGonagall lead the First Years into the hall.


	13. Blaise

“Ah, Hogwarts,” Tracy muttered as they left the Great Hall.  “Defense teacher who hates Potter, a Head of House who hates Potter.”

“Roommates who hate Potter,” Blaise added as they headed for the Potions classroom.

“Classmates who hate Malfoy,” Tracy said.

“Such a positive learning environment,” Blaise muttered.

They reached the lab and Blaise leaned against the wall by the door.  Tracy leaned against the wall across from him as she fought to contain her wild and curly hair in a hair band.

“Did you notice Potter’s hair?”  Tracy asked as she worked, “He actually looked like he cared.”

“I did,” Blaise said as he ran a hand over his own, close cut hair.  “It didn’t make me feel the need to hit him with a shaving charm.”  From the way Tracy’s lips twitched, Blaise could tell she was fighting the urge to laugh at him.

“Father says Professor Umbridge will be the best thing to happen to Hogwarts.”

Draco Malfoy’s voice cut through the quiet dungeons with the piercing accuracy of a sneakoscope.  Blaise rolled his eyes and Tracy shook her head slightly before they both assumed ‘Proper Pureblood Slytherin Masks’ before the ferret came in sight.

“You’re in my spot,” Malfoy said.

“Sorry,” Blaise replied indifferently, “I’m stuck.”

Malfoy stared at him.

 _“Again?”_   Tracy said skeptically.

Blaise shrugged, “What can I say?  I’m _magnetic.”_

Tracy jumped slightly and looked around, then her shoulders began to shake as she hunched over slightly.

Blaise glanced around, ignoring Malfoy’s whining in favor of the sight of Nott.  The weedy, colorless little shit was staring at Tracy with his wand out.  Blaise couldn’t tell what spell he was using, but when Blaise checked on Tracy, it was clear what was going on.  All they needed was for Tracy to move and cause her blouse to pop open.  Blaise clenched his fist, but he knew that Professor Snape was listening through the door, if not actually watching.  He needed a distraction to allow Tracy to fix her shirt.

“Davis,” Blaise drawled, “do remind me later that Mother’s latest charm is ready.  It’s that stimulated castration hex.”

“The one she tested on Mister Wexley?”  Tracy asked.

“Yes,” Blaise said, “although she did say it shouldn’t cause actual castration anymore.”

Tracy adjusted her shirt slightly, “Well, we have that free period after lunch, you can teach me then.”

Blaise nodded as footsteps and soft voices heralded the arrival of the rest of the class.

Blustrode, Moon, and Greengrass arrived first, took one look at the situation and promptly gave Tracy a protective screen.  While Parkinson had Malfoy’s protection to some extent, the other four Slytherin girls had formed a limited alliance when the Slytherin boys like Nott started harassing them.  With Tracy now protected, Blaise could turn his attention to dealing more firmly with Nott.  Clearly, the sound hexing he’d given the boy last year had been forgotten over the summer.  Having a mother who specialized in creating spells that deterred idiots who harassed witches was a bonus in Slytherin.

The door to the classroom slammed open and Snape stepped outside with a rather impressive glare.  “In.”

Blaise tried to straighten up, only to find his back was stuck to the wall.  Tracy had already vanished inside with the other girls behind her, followed by a smirking Draco.  Blaise glanced at Snape, who was watching him as the Gryffindor contingent scuttled between them.

“Mister Zabini?”  Snape said.

Blaise made a point of pushing against the wall, “I’m stuck, Professor.”

“Indeed,” Snape said and pulled out his wand.  Blaise waited until Snape finished casting his spell, and then tried again.  Snape frowned and started casting again.

“I didn’t do anything,” Blaise said, “I mean, I told Malfoy I was stuck, but I was joking.”

Snape eyed him for a moment, and then stepped into the classroom.  “Potter, what did you do to Mister Zabini?”

“What?  Nothing!”  Potter protested.

Blaise rolled his eyes as Snape deducted ten points from Gryffindor.  Snape’s vendetta against Potter was reaching ridiculous proportions.

“Ms. Davis, please fetch Professor Dumbledore,” Snape said.  “Mister Potter, detention.”

“On what grounds, Professor?”  Potter asked.

“You have used magic in the corridors, stuck your classmate to the wall, and refused to undo your spell.”  Snape said.

“I did none of that Professor,” Potter said firmly, but politely.

Blaise sighed softly.  He was tempted to whine about being stuck to the wall, but he already knew he’d sound like Malfoy if he tried.  Whining was not a skill practiced or tolerated in the Zabini household.  A complaint, well formulated, was a different matter, but with no one there to _hear_ the complaint made it an exercise in frustration.

Suddenly Potter stormed out of the classroom, bag in hand.  “I am not obligated to stand here and be persecuted for a crime I did not commit,” he said over his shoulder.  “It’s a funny Muggle concept you know, it’s called _innocent until proven guilty.”_   He nodded at Blaise and walked away.

Suddenly, fifth year looked to be a lot more interesting.

HPNOBHPNOBHP

By the time the headmaster arrived, Blaise had pulled out his potions book and was reading about the memory-enhancing potion his classmates were brewing.

“Mister Zabini.”

Blaise closed his book as he looked up, “Good morning, Headmaster.”

“If you will permit me, perhaps I can reverse your predicament,” Dumbledore said genially.

“Go ahead,” Blaise said.

The headmaster pulled his wand and began to cast spells at Blaise.  After several minutes, Blaise could feel the magic release him.  “I understand that you have class, Mister Zabini, but a matter has just come to my attention that we need to discuss in my office.  Please come with me.”

“Headmaster,” Professor Snape said.  “About Potter.”

“Harry was not involved in this incident,” Professor Dumbledore said firmly.  “While he has offered to do a detention for walking out today, he will be supervised by Minerva.  Minerva has also restored all but fifteen points that you deducted from Harry specifically over this incident.  There will be no further action taken against Harry for what occurred today.”

“Of course, Headmaster,” Snape said.

Blaise looked down to put his book away and to hide his expression.  The idea that Snape _wouldn’t_ retaliate against Potter for whatever slight the man took away from this was laughable.  The Headmaster’s restrictions only meant that Snape would be subtle.

“Mister Zabini,” Dumbledore said, and Blaise hurried to fall in behind the Headmaster.

To distract himself from whatever the Headmaster needed to tell him, Blaise thought about how lucky he was.  Except for Astronomy, Blaise never had to go past the third floor, where the Charms and Ancient Runes classrooms were.  Blaise didn’t know exactly where the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw towers were, but they were _at least_ on the fifth floor. 

At least Dumbledore’s pace allowed Blaise to arrive at the gargoyle to the Headmaster’s office with slightly sore calves and a steady heart.

“Licorice whips,” Dumbledore said and the gargoyle sprang aside.

Blaise had been to the headmaster’s office once as a first year.  His maternal grandfather had passed away and his mother had requested to break the news to him in person.  Grandfather Zabini had been one of the few decent men Blaise had known growing up; Tracy’s dad had been another.

Blaise shook his head as they stepped inside.  The room had an understated elegance to it that was clear even under the many headmaster portraits, bookshelves, and mysterious, fragile instruments.

“Have a seat, Mister Zabini,” Dumbledore said.

Blaise put his bag beside one of the chairs and sat down nervously.

“As I remember, Mister Zabini, you turned fifteen last March, did you not?”  Dumbledore said.

“Yes sir,” Blaise said.

“The wards did not register a manifestation then,” Dumbledore said.

“No sir,” Blaise said.  He’d been disappointed to learn he wasn’t gifted; he’d wanted to have his mother’s Spell Creation gift.

“Were you aware that sometimes manifestation can be delayed?”  Dumbledore asked.

“No sir,” Blaise said.

“Yes.  There are times when a gift’s usual conduit is not available at the time and so the manifestation is delayed.  Say, perhaps, a youngster with a Gift for Enchanted Weaving not knowing how to weave.  Their manifestation is delayed and can be delayed until the energy breaks out in an unusual way.  In the case of the young weaver, all of his clothes reworked itself to change colors to match his mood.  In your case, you stuck yourself to the wall somehow.”

“That was a manifestation?”  Blaise said.

“Yes it was,” Dumbledore said.

“So what happens now?”  Blaise asked.

“As I understand your mother is out of the country, with your permission, I will ask Mister William Davis to escort you to Gringotts to register your gift.”  Dumbledore said.  “If Mister Davis is not available.”

“Mister Davis is my first choice,” Blaise said quickly, “My second would be my Head of House, Professor Snape.”

“Very well,” Dumbledore said.  “I recommend you return to your common room.  I’ll excuse you from class until you return from Gringotts.  If your Gift is manifesting, it’s would be detrimental to yourself and possibly your classmates.”

“I understand,” Blaise said.  He hesitated, “Sir, do you have a guess as to what my Gift could be?”

“I could be wrong,” Dumbledore said.

“My grandfather once told me that a guess from you was a fact from anyone else.”  Blaise said.

Dumbledore chuckled, “With such an endorsement from your grandfather, well, I would suggest that your gift is Bardic in nature.”

“Thank you sir,” Blaise said.  He stood up, “If you’ll excuse me?”

“Certainly,” Dumbledore said.

Blaise slung his bag over his shoulder and hurried out.  He hoped he didn’t run into anyone.  He wasn’t sure he would be able to keep his mask in place.  Learning that the gift he developed was not his mother’s spell crafting but instead the bardic gift of his late and much unlamented Death Eater father was going to take some getting used to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You never know how much you don't know until you try to tell someone's story. Blaise has been an interesting person to get to know.


	14. Fay

Fay Dunbar liked Hagrid. He was rough, but it was easy to see that he adored the creatures in his care and he wanted his students to care for them as well. He just had trouble judging his students' ability to handle some of the creatures. Sophie said it was because Hagrid had less to fear from the claw and fang brigade as opposed to the rest of them. Fay had to agree with her ginger haired friend.

That didn't excuse Umbridge's behavior towards Hagrid during his so-called evaluation.

After Umbridge's first salvo, Sophie had had to hold Fay back from going to the defense of their teacher. It would have been so easy; she'd spent a lifetime watching her cousins condescend to the world, pretending that their joint custody of her was a dream. Even their rialóir had bought their "concern". Fay knew her cousins weren't concerned with  _her,_  but with her parents' Quidditch supply company and the allowance granted to them as her caretakers. They wanted the bonus money that Fay could grant them when she came of age, a million galleons each from the company. Fay knew a few letters, and her rialóir would go to the minister and express his concern about Umbridge's actions and teaching styles.

It was only her lack of physical proof that kept her from sending her letters now that everyone knew someone who had served a detention with the Defense professor. Fay had tried to get someone to let her take pictures of their hands, but there weren't many who's cuts remained long enough for it to happen, and while Fay had joined the Sunday bardic tutoring at Harry's detention, she wasn't yet sure she could ask him.

"And what do you think of Hagrid as a teacher?" Umbridge asked, cutting through Fay's thoughts.

Fay raised her eyebrows and looked down her nose at the older woman. "Hagrid is clearly an expert on the subject of magical creatures. He handles them with competence, and it is easy to see that he  _cares_  for his creatures. The only difficulty Hagrid has as a teacher is that some students lack respect for his knowledge, which begs the question of why they chose to take  _this_  class instead of some other elective. If you listen to Hagrid's lectures and do the pre-class reading, there would be no need for injuries, and those who have been injured because they do the opposite of what Hagrid tells them have only themselves to blame. Besides, anyone who's ever spent time around animals knows that to charge up to them, robes flapping and half-shouting is just  _asking_ to get hurt because the animal thinks it's being  _attacked._  Also, anyone with half a brain and a little patience can understand what Hagrid is saying, and anyone who mistakes a regional accent for stupidity is short sighted and narrow minded."

"That is an interesting position, Ms. Dunbar," Umbridge said with a cold look in her eyes.

Fay tilted her head slightly, "I prefer to think of it as an ability to recognize skill, intelligence, and knowledge when I see it, regardless of the person." She let her voice chill the way her cousin did when he was talking to an inferior, "Of course, I can understand the difficulty in determining the good teachers from the bad, given  _other_  recent hiring choices."

"Yes, the… werewolf," Umbridge sniffed.

"Remus Lupin holds a cumulative level 5 journeyman's certificate in seven Defense specialties," Fay said, "awarded in France as I recall. He only needs to sit his Mastery trials in  _any_  of those seven specialties to achieve Master status. Hogwarts requires only a level 3 journeyman's certificate in a  _single_  Defense specialty  _or_  five years experience in the DMLE as an  _active_  Auror, hit wizard, or emergency response, or the Gringotts curse breaking department, or 10 years of documented and demonstrated experience with a private company." She nodded her head slightly, "Now, if you don't mind, Professor Umbridge, I actually want to pass Care of Magical Creatures and need to pay attention to the lesson. After all, it is our OWL year."

Umbridge sniffed, "Detention, Ms. Dunbar. Teachers are to be respected at  _all_  times."

Fay bowed slightly, "At your convenience, Professor Umbridge."

She turned back to Sophie and their assignment, imagining that she could hear the nail in Umbridge's coffin.

"Are you crazy?" Sophie demanded softly once Umbridge was out of earshot.

"I have my reasons," Fay said, "but now isn't the time to go into them."

"If you're sure," Sophie said quietly.

Fay sighed, glanced around and leaned over, "My cousins won't go to the rialóir without physical proof. I can count on one hand the number of kids who have gone more than once, and even fewer have physical marks that last longer than an hour. Now, I can pay off that Creepy kid to hang around to get the evidence when I leave Umbridge's office because I'll know when to tell him to be there."

"Really?" Sophie said. "And his name is Creevy."

"That's what I said," Fay replied. "Are you going to back me up with my cousins then?"

Sophie grinned, "I wouldn't miss it. Gryffindors forward!"

Fay laughed, tossing her head back and throwing her whole body into the act. It was the way Sophie had taught her to laugh, the way she knew, in her heart of hearts, that she'd once known how to before. Before death and destruction and her parents had died. Before her cousins, and before she became the Heir of the Dunbar Estate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fay Dunbar and Sophie Roper were on JK's list for Harry's year (aka the Hogwarts Forty class list or something like that.) Fay appears in the video games with a "ginger friend". I picked Sophie's name for personal reasons. This is shorter than the other chapters, mostly because this is the first I've actually written Fay, and I kept going overboard in working out her history and having to delete it. Fay has a solid future role in the stories, and Sophie will be a strong recurring character. I think the only other things I want to say now is that if Fay had a theme song, it would be Roar by Katy Perry, and I'm mostly positive her patronus is a tigress. Her nickname is Liger, the child of a Lion and a Tigress. Blaise, on the other hand, would count Some People Change by Montgomery Gentry as his song. (As I am planning a chapter for each member of the band of varying length, I will try to remember to name their songs as their chapter goes up. I'm indecisive on picking songs for the Band's "silent" members (ie Ron, Hermione, and Sophie), but if you're interested, I'll keep an open mind to finding them something.)


	15. Townhouse Troubles

With school in session, the number of visitors to Sirius’s house slacked to once or twice a week at best.  Molly Weasley had returned to the family home with Arthur and came over on days the Order met to oversee the continued battle with the house.  In her stead, Sirius had bound Kreacher to his den, allowing him to leave only to get food from the kitchen and tend his personal needs and then hired a pair of house elves from the Headmaster named Dobby and Winky.  The smaller number of visitors allowed Sirius to make some changes to his life, firstly by formally accepting the position of the Black Rialóir, although him still being a fugitive limited what he could do as the leader of the Black Clan.

The second thing Sirius had done was begin work to remove the word fugitive from his name.

He started by sending an owl to the Ministry Records department, requesting a series of transcripts from Death Eater trials, including his own on the list.  He presented himself as a writer preparing to write a book about the Death Eater trials.  He got all of them but his own, receiving a letter saying that the transcript was unavailable.

Given that by law, the Ministry was required to provide transcripts to any trial so long as a reasonable request was made unless the trial had been sealed; the response was unusual to say the least.  To test this, he sent another set of requests, including two trials Remus said were sealed.  This time, the response included a notice that the transcripts were sealed.

Remus then penned an anonymous letter to the editor speculating on why the Sirius Black transcript would be ‘unavailable’ and not sealed or open.

The day after that letter ran all hell broke loose in the Daily Prophet.

 ** _“Records and Transcripts from the Sirius Black Trial Missing,”_** Remus mused as he scanned the paper.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, your Ministry of Magic,” Sirius replied.

“You know Albus is going to give us that look, right,” Remus said.

“We aren’t the only owners of Private Parchments,” Sirius said, “and it’s not like we did something dishonest.  I do plan to write a book, my memoirs if you would.  The ministry would _love_ me to write about my life.”

Remus smiled a little as he sipped his tea, “Did I ever thank you?”

“What for?”  Sirius asked.

“Going to that retreat last summer when I asked you to.  I can’t imagine what you’d be like without that help,” Remus said.

“Probably drinking too much,” Sirius replied, “trying to forget.  You were right when you suggested it.  I wasn’t able to help Harry the way I was.”

“I went there after everything happened,” Remus said, “before I went to America.  Millerton is an amazing healer.”

Sirius nodded, “Do you think… maybe Harry would…”

“I think that Harry would definitely benefit from seeing him.  After we deal with Voldemort, we should talk to him about it.”  Remus said after a moment.

“You did your studies in America, didn’t you?”  Sirius asked.  Remus was always hesitant to talk about his life in France.  Sirius thought something bad must have happened there.

“I did,” Remus said, “the American werewolf laws are so much more liberating than the English ones.  My master at the time actually had friends in a nearby pack, and he intimated that he would introduce me to them, but before I decided to take the chance, it was too late.  The pack was decimated by a group of werewolf hunters and we agreed it was safer if I left before their leader realized what I was.”

“I didn’t realize that hunters were still a thing,” Sirius said.

“Between the Muggle laws and the Statute of Secrecy, the Ministry employs the only hunters here.”  Remus said, “Back in the seventies, when things were back, the Ministry actually contracted with one of the French hunting clans to try to contain things.  The Argent Clan, I believe they were called, one of the larger clans in existence.”

“Oh,” Sirius said.

“Yes, the family split generations ago, half of them went to America and the rest remain in France.  The French Argents are a good lot; they operate by a strict moral code.  The American Argents are… not.”  Remus hesitated and looked at his tea, “Sirius, taste this.”

Sirius took the cup, “What’s wrong?”

“The more I drink… it doesn’t taste right,” Remus said.

Sirius took a quick sip.  “What kind of tea is this?”

“Earl Gray,” Remus replied, “or it should be.”

“Huh,” Sirius said, “Winky!”

“Yes Mister Sirius?”  Winky asked.

“What kind of tea is this?”  Sirius said.

“Earl Gray, sir,” Winky said, “Winky opened a new box this morning.”

“Bring the box,” Sirius said, “and the one you just emptied.”

“Yes Mister Sirius,” Winky said and vanished.

Sirius pushed the cup of tea away, “I don’t know what that is, maybe it’s a blend or something, but that is not straight Earl Gray.”

“It took me a bit to realize it,” Remus said.

Sirius frowned, “You were more talkative than usual.”

Remus nodded, “It’s not, not that I don’t trust you Sirius, it’s just hard to talk about.  I mean, the Argents are… ruthless.  Dangerous.  I moved to France, switched specialties and frankly if I never meet Gerard Argent again, it will be too soon.”

“Here are the boxes,” Winky announced and put them on the table.

“Thank you Winky,” Remus said. 

The two boxes were identical, and Sirius picked up the empty one.  He popped the lid open, glanced inside, and looked over the box.  “What do you think?”  He looked over at Remus, holding up the box.  Remus took it and sniffed it carefully.

“Smells normal,” Remus said.  “It’s just tea.”

Sirius nodded and opened the second box.

It was as if a million dung bombs had exploded in the box.  The scent ripped through Sirius senses and he retched while reaching out a shaky hand to slam the lid on the box.

When Sirius was able to look up through watering eyes, he found Remus standing outside the door, wand in hand.

“I think we’ve found the problem,” Sirius said.  There was a pop and the box shook before it’s label changed.  “Weasley’s Loose Tongue Tea Leaves,” Sirius read.  “Learn what your friends really think.”

“How do you think it works?”  Remus asked as he cautiously eased into the room.

Sirius shrugged as he turned the box around.  “It says it’s an Earl Gray blend.  So it is Earl Gray with some sort of babbling potion in it?”

“And the smell?”  Remus asked.

“Well,” Sirius said as he turned the box over.  “Here, warning, opening the box without the password is an offense to the senses.  Under it, someone wrote ‘Earl Gray’.”

“Do you want to try it out?”  Remus asked.

“Okay,” Sirius said, pulling out his grandfather’s wand.  Remus hurriedly stepped back out the room and Sirius tapped the box with his wand, “Earl Gray.”  He reached over and popped open the lid with a wince.

The faint scent of tea drifted out the box and Remus stepped into the room.  “It smells like a blend that’s strongly Earl Gray.”

“Someone needs to talk to the Weasley twins,” Sirius said.  “The Parchment’s demonstration was funny, but if they’ve left more of these around, there’s going to be trouble.”

Remus raised his eyebrows, “That’s an… interesting position for you to take.”

“I won’t deny that I’d hex anyone I thought deserved it, but there’s a reason James and I never gave Snape anything involving peanuts.”  Sirius said.  “The twins need to learn to think of that.”  He grinned at Remus, “It would have been amusing to see Snape recite Jabberwocky again.”

“Right,” Remus said.

The grandfather clock chimed the hour.

“On that note,” Remus said, “I will be working in the library.”

“I’m going to go feed Witherwings,” Sirius replied.

“Come down when you’re done?”  Remus asked.

“Of course,” Sirius said.  “I’ve got some correspondence to go over in the plan.”

“Well, I was hoping you’d make a list for me,” Remus said.  “You know the animagus books in the Hogwarts library better than I do, and I know Harry and Hermione will appreciate them.”

Sirius stared, “Are you serious?”

“You’ve made a good point,” Remus said, “Harry needs a few secret weapons, his music maybe one of them, but this, being an animagus, could be another one.”

Sirius had made that same argument to Remus almost every time Remus made a reading list for Harry and Hermione.  Remus had been of the opinion that animagus studies would be a bad idea.  For a moment, Sirius wondered what had changed Remus’s mind.  Then he decided he didn’t mind. 

Instead, he rested his hand on Remus’s arm, “Do you know how much I love you?”  Sirius asked and gave him a gentle kiss.

“Of course I do,” Remus said and kissed him.  “It’s the same amount as I love you.”

///…\\\\\\...///…\\\\\

That evening, Sirius settled on the couch in the master suite, toying with his half of the communication mirror.

Remus settled next to him, tucking his knees under him as he opened his book.  “Don’t worry Sirius; Harry hasn’t missed a call yet.”

“I know,’ Sirius said.  He jerked slightly and leaned over his mirror, “Harry?”

“Hey Padfoot,” Harry said tiredly.

“Are you all right?”  Sirius asked.

Remus fought a smile, both because Sirius sounded like a parent and he remembered a conversation they’d had over the summer.

_Sirius had been perched on the window sill, looking out over the back garden, looking oddly gloomy.  “I just can’t do it,” he’d said._

_“Do what?”  Remus had asked as he leaned against the wall beside him._

_“I can’t call Harry pup any more.  He’s older than his years, and it doesn’t feel right,” Sirius said._

_“Then don’t,” Remus said, “call him Harry.  Get to know him better and then decide if a nickname is right for both of you.”_

_“James would be laughing at me,” Sirius said._

_“James would be proud of you,” Remus said.  “I know we said we’d all raise Harry together, but you’re doing exactly what you need to now.”_

Remus shook his head when Sirius poked his knee.

“We’re just busy, and it’s not just homework.  Hermione’s doing extra work on her gift and she’s been all over the study group idea.  Ron made the Quidditch team, so he’s always trying to get extra training in.”

“Is he still freezing up?”  Sirius asked.

“That’s just it,” Harry said with a frustrated sigh, “Ron’s a really good Keeper when he’s on his game, it’s just that he gets knocked off his game so easily.”

Sirius nodded, “There’s not much you can do unless he asks for help, Harry.”

“I know,” Harry said.

“How’s the band going?”  Remus asked.

“It’s not,” Harry said.  “Neville’s onboard, he’s got some songbooks and stuff his grandmother sent him.  I’ve spoken with Fay, and she’s interested, but she’s trying to get Umbridge fired first.  I haven’t even managed to talk to anyone else.”

“Motives or opportunity?”  Remus asked.

“Chase Travers ran away from me yesterday,” Harry said.  “He saw me and ran the other way, then came in late to Transfiguration because of it.”

“I know we said not to rush,” Sirius said, “but it might be better if we had our ducks in a row by Christmas.”

“Well, besides Dunbar, Luna Lovegood’s in a different _year._   I never see her unless we’re eating.”

“What about the Hufflepuffs?”  Remus asked.

“I didn’t know that badgers traveled in packs,” Harry said.

“Harry,” Remus said, “maybe you need to be less subtle.”

“Huh?”  Harry asked.

“Ask to talk to them, find an empty classroom, throw up a privacy charm, and ask,” Sirius said.

“Oh,” Harry said.

“Now, what’s going on with the Slytherins?”  Remus asked.

“How can I talk to them?”  Harry asked, “Any time I get close, Malfoy’s shouting something about Mum or Pansy’s having a go at Hermione.  At lunch, they teamed up and came up with a suggestion so foul that Snape let Professor McGonagall give them both detention for it.”

Remus hummed thoughtfully.  “Why don’t you let me handle Tracy and Blaise, there might be other ways to get their attention.”

“All right,” Harry said.  “Hey Ron.”

“Hi Harry,” Ron said.  “Don’t worry; you’ve got about a half an hour before anyone else comes up.  I just wanted some peace; the twins are demonstrating some new prank of theirs.”

“All right,” Harry said.

“Hi Sirius, hi Remus,” Ron called, “Don’t mind me.  I’ve got that history reading to do.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Remus said, “how is everything working out with the lists?”

“Good,” Ron said, “Harry’s a good teacher, and Hermione will help if I ask, but she says I’m doing well either way.”

“That’s good,” Remus said, “your mother will be surprised with your midterm grade then?”

Ron snorted, “They were more surprised that I didn’t get top grades, like everyone else.”

Remus hummed thoughtfully.

“Speaking of the lists,” Sirius said, “Remus changed the password today.”

“Aw,” Harry said, “I liked the last one.”

“Yes well, blowing a raspberry shouldn’t have ever been a password,” Remus said, “it’s the third worst password your father and Padfoot ever suggested.”

“What was first place?”  Sirius asked.

“It’s so hard to choose,” Remus said, “but the biggest contender would have to be the original password for the map.”

“What was the password?”  Harry asked eagerly.

Sirius belched loudly.

Remus shook his head, “Ladies and gentlemen, the love of my life.”

“The original password was a burp?”  Harry asked, laughing.

“That was a belch,” Sirius said, “There’s a difference.  Besides, Remus won’t burp on command.”

“I can’t burp on command,” Remus said.

“Can’t, won’t,” Sirius said, “What’s the difference?”

“Shit, Harry,” Ron called, “toad alert!”

“Gotta go,” Harry said and ended the call.

“Don’t worry,” Remus said as Sirius stared into the dormant mirror, “Harry’s smart, he can take care of himself.”

“I know,” Sirius said, “I just wish we didn’t have to hide.”

“It’s not forever,” Remus said, “we have options.”

“And the best one is to win in the court of public opinion, I know,” Sirius said.

Remus reached over and pulled the mirror out of Sirius’s unresisting hand.  “It’s getting late; let me take your mind of things.”  He tangled his fingers with Sirius’s and drew him off the couch.

“If you insist,” Sirius said, following Remus towards the bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did this thing, I went through and picked out all of the scenes about the band, but I forgot that other things were going down in the background. So now we're getting scenes about everyone else in and around the band scenes. (I cannot remember if I posted how Hermione found out about her Gift. I'll check, and if I didn't, I'll do a flashback for your edification.)


	16. Chase and Shadow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note the change in tags.

Harry Potter used to make Shadow think of a forest.  His scent was a mix of pine and cedar, with a taint of leaf mold, and he left the Hufflepuff feeling that he was in the presence of a great and venerable tree.  This year, Harry had changed.  His voice was unchanged tonally, but at the same time carried the promise of power to it, and the scent of leaf mold had grown, clashing with the steady pine and cedar scent.

Justin’s elbow collided with his side hard enough to make Shadow jump.  “You’re staring again,” he murmured, “Do we need to go over ‘stalking and you’ again?”

Shadow smiled tightly, “No.  There’s just something different about Potter.”

Justin perked up a little; he was one of the few who knew about Shadow’s talent.  “He’s definitely got a Gift?”

“Of course he does,” Shadow said, “I’m just not sure if that explains it all.”  He sighed and waved his wand, sending his wolf figurine over to sniff Justin’s bear.  “Let me guess, you’re betting on his Gift.”

“Not exactly,” Justin said.  He poked his wand at the bear, which remained still, “I wish I could get this right.”

“You have to command, not ask.”  Shadow said as the wolf began chasing its tail.

Justin nodded slightly as he waved his wand again.  The bear sat down.

“Very good,” Professor Flitwick said, startling them both.  “Take ten points each to Hufflepuff.  Now, Mister Ochoa, why don’t you move next to Ms. Granger and practice the next stage of the charm?”

Shadow nodded and picked up the wolf and followed the Professor over to where Hermione Granger was leaning over, talking to Potter and Weasley.

“Ms. Granger,” Professor Flitwick said as Shadow sat down, “You and Mr. Ochoa will practice animating multiple figurines at once while your classmates master the singular charm.”  He summoned a small box from his desk filled with additional figurines.

“Yes Professor,” Granger said.

Shadow eyed Granger for a moment, “I know how to do this,” he said finally and pulled out three additional wolves from the box.  He hesitated a moment, eyeing Granger’s deer figurine, then cast his charm.  The wolves threw their heads back in a silent howl before racing across the desk to surround the deer.  The deer stared at them for a moment then darted away, evading their interests and charging back across the desk, ending up in the corner.  The wolves surrounded the deer, who lowered its antlers to fend them off.

“How,” Hermione began.

Shadow cut the charm, leaving the tableau alone.  “It’s a common charm used by parents to make a child’s toys perform a show or interact with them,” Shadow said.  “I have many cousins.”

“Oh,” Hermione said.

Shadow animated the figurines and sent them trotting over to Hermione.  “Start with a pattern, like walking in a straight line.  It’s best not to be complicated.”

Perhaps it was showing off a bit, but Shadow’s real claim to fame had always been charms.  He’d expected to develop a Gift for it, and becoming a Bard had not only surprised him, but had led to his father giving him a second look for once.

Granger nodded slightly and waved her wand, no hint of irritation or anger in her features as she cast.  The deer and one of the wolves started to jerkily walk across the desk.  After a moment, they stopped.

“Good,” Shadow said.

“Good job Hermione.”  Potter said brightly.

Shadow jerked, he hadn’t realized that they had had an audience.

“You’re Shadow, right?”  Potter said.

“Yes,” Shadow said, fighting the urge to lower his eyes, or even worse bare his neck to the teen.

“I was wondering if I could have a word in private after class,” Potter said.

Shadow found himself nodding before he’d registered Potter’s request.  “Yeah,” he said, amazed at how steady his voice was.

“All right class,” Flitwick called, “I want a two foot essay on the animation charm, due next week.  Class dismissed.”

Shadow collected his bag from beside Justin, “I’ll see you in a bit,” he told his friend.

“All right,” Justin replied.

Shadow adjusted the bag on his shoulder, wondering what Harry Potter would want to talk to him.  There was a magnitude of differences between him and Potter, except, they _were_ both Bards.

“Hey, are you okay?”  Justin asked, catching his arm.

“I’m fine,” Shadow said.

“If you’re sure,” Justin said.

Shadow nodded, “Potter wanted to speak with me is all.  I’ll catch up to you at lunch, okay?”

“Not a problem,” Justin said.

Shadow headed out the door and found Potter waiting with Weasley and Granger.  “This way,” Potter said, looking nervous.  He led the way to an empty classroom and gestured, “After you.”

Shadow went in and perched on an empty desk, watching as Potter shut the door and cast a privacy charm on it.  Then he stilled for a moment before turning around. 

“It’s like this,” Potter began, “I’m a Bard, it runs in the Potter family.  Mostly that means that I have a bunch of books either written by or collected by my ancestors that I’ve been reading.  One of the books was about Bardic rituals and included a spell that shows people who are compatible with your own magic.  You were one of the people the spell showed me.”

Shadow looked down at the floor as he tried to process that information.  He’d never heard of a spell like that, but he supposed that a family of bards would find it useful.

“I don’t know if you believe me about Voldemort,” Harry said suddenly, “I don’t really care.  I just want to know if you were interested in joining a group I’m putting together.  Maybe we’ll become a ritual group, maybe not, but what we will do is practice a capella style singing.”

“What’s that?”  Shadow asked, looking up at Harry.

“It’s a way to make music without using instruments,” Harry said.  “You have a bass singer and someone who does the rhythms, usually called a beat boxer, and the rest of the group does the vocals.  It’s not just the lyrics to the songs though, it’s using your voice to cover all the music in a song.”

Shadow nodded, “I believe you,” he said and slid off the desk.

“Huh?”  Harry said.

“About Voldemort,” Shadow said, “I believe you.”  He’d listened to Harry’s heart, after all.  “If this group of yours, if we’re going to do something about- about Voldemort and- and his followers, I’m in.”

Harry grinned, “Thanks Shadow.”  He hesitated, “There are others I’m talking to, I don’t know how many of them are open about their abilities.  I’m not, I’d rather keep it between a select group.”

“Who are you thinking of?”  Shadow asked.

“Well, the spell showed me eight people that I specifically want to approach,” Harry said, “your housemate Hannah Abbot is one.”

Shadow nodded.

“There are two Ravenclaws, Chase Travers and a fourth year named Luna Lovegood.”  Harry said, “Two Gryffindors, Neville Longbottom and Fay Dunbar, and two Slytherins, Tracy Davis and Blaise Zabini.”

“All right,” Shadow said.

“Neville’s onboard full stop,” Harry said, “Fay’s trying to get Umbridge fired, but she’s interested.  I haven’t spoken with anyone else.”

Shadow smiled, “I can talk to Hannah and Chase, if you want.  I don’t know Luna though.”

“I know Luna, and I’m friends with her friend, so don’t worry about it,” Harry said.  “Chase has been my big problem though.”

“I’m sure he had his reasons,” Shadow said, looking over to the blackboard.

The door suddenly slammed open, “What is going on in here?”  Umbridge demanded.

Shadow stumbled back, thankful that Umbridge’s attention was on Harry and not him as he tried to pull back his instinctive reaction to shift.

“Shadow and I were talking about our shared Gift,” Harry said coolly.

“And the inexpertly applied privacy charm?”  Umbridge said.

“People notice me,” Harry said, “and I don’t always appreciate that.  My friend Remus suggested I practice privacy charms after last year with that reporter.”

Umbridge stared at him, “Detention, Mister Potter.  Privacy charms are not permitted outside of a classroom learning environment.”

“At your convenience,” Harry said with a half bow.  He turned, “Shadow, I’ll be happy to finish this discussion another time.”

“Of course,” Shadow replied.  He leaned against the desk and watched as Umbridge harrumphed and stormed off.

“I enjoy doing that to her,” Harry said quietly.  He grinned at Shadow, “Neville and I usually meet up on Sundays after lunch, why don’t you join us?  There are practice rooms down by the library.”

“All right,” Shadow said, “I’ll see you then.”

///…\\\\\\...///…\\\\\

There was something about History class and listening to Binns drone on and on that set Chase on edge.  The ghost’s dull monotone grated on him in a way no other ghost or professor did.  At least with the shared desks in the history classroom, Chase could put his arm around his girlfriend Lisa and relax.

As he watched Lisa flip idly through their history text, Chase wondered how much longer they would last.  Lisa hadn’t been happy with him since the school year began.  She’d been asking questions Chase couldn’t answer, about his family, about why they hadn’t seen each other, things that Chase wasn’t sure he could answer.  He wasn’t sure Lisa was the girl he was going to marry, and until he could be that sure, he couldn’t answer all those questions of hers.  The wizarding world was too manic about werewolves to reveal that he was one.

Chase rubbed his chest for a moment, seeking to sooth an inner restlessness, the sense of self his family had always called the wolf.

“Chase,” Lisa said.

“What?”  Chase asked quietly.

“Class is over silly,” Lisa said.  “Where were you?”

Chase smiled at her, “I was thinking about you.”

Lisa smiled at him, “Come on, Binns gave us homework on the Werewolf Compromise of 1819.”

Chase groaned as he put his things away and stood up to follow her.  “Why can’t we study something interesting for a change?”

“Why, do you have something against werewolves?”  Lisa asked as they left the classroom.

Chase barely held in a snort.

“Did you just?”

Because Chase suffered under a bad luck curse nobody could detect, his older sister Heather was in the hallway.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in Herbology?”  Chase asked.

“Terrence Brocklhurst was gassed by a Sleeping Tentacle, so Professor Sprout ended class early,” Heather said, “Did you really just ask if he was-“

“The werewolf compromise,” Chase said, “we have to write a paper on that.”

“Oh,” Heather said.

“It’s a racist document written by hysterics, sociopaths, and idiots that led to the wholesale slaughter of children,” Chase continued.  “It gave legal protection to mass murders and serial killers, but nobody cared because the targets weren’t human.  It’s been romanticized by historians ever since and they ignore the inconvienient facts about it.”  He paused, “Actually, this will be an interesting paper to right, even if Binns won’t appreciate my point of view.”

“Chase,” Heather said.

“Don’t worry,” Chase said, “I’m not going to get in trouble.”

“Why do you feel so strongly about it?”  Lisa asked.

Chase froze, he’d almost forgotten she was listening.

Heather shook her head, “Chase is an activist, like our mom.  Except Mom’s all about domestic violence and child abuse, and Chase picked werewolves.”

“I don’t like to make a big deal about it,” Chase said, “people in Ravenclaw are too polarizing.  Look how they treat Luna.”

For a moment, Lisa’s lip twitched, but it was gone before Chase could fully register its meaning.  “I see,” she said a little coldly.

“I should go,” Heather said cheerfully.  “I’ll see you later, little brother.”

“Right,” Chase said, “later.”

“More secrets, Chase?”  Lisa said.

Chase sighed, “Lisa, I don’t like to talk about things like that.  Not with the prevailing attitudes in Ravenclaw these days.”

“You could have told me,” Lisa said.

“Before or after you have your daily pry into my life session?”  Chase snapped.

Lisa gasped.

“Oh hell, Lisa, I’m sorry.”

“Maybe if you weren’t so secretive,” Lisa said.

“You want to know something about me?”  Chase said.  “About my family?  How about this, my dad is a Squib.  Yeah, a Squib.  Me and Heather are the only two out of five children with magic and we get it from our Dad’s family.  His family kicked him out of the house when he was eleven because he didn’t get a Hogwarts letter.  He spent six _years_ on the streets of Cardiff before my grandmother found him and brought him home.  Dad took Mom’s last name and swore he’d have nothing to do with the magical world ever again.  Having two magical children isn’t easy on him, but he tries to hide it, because no kid wants their dad to resent them for being what he wasn’t.  I didn’t meet up with you because I’d rather spend my summers with my Dad, pretending this world doesn’t exist than to see _that_ look on his face ever again.”

“Chase,” Lisa said.

“No,” Chase said, he stepped back and held his arms out, “I’m done.  I’m tired of the way you drift between being the sweet, funny and intelligent girl I asked out and this gossiping harpy you become when someone doesn’t bow to your desire to _know._   I mean, I like you Lisa, we were friends long before the Yule Ball, and maybe we can get that back in the future, but I just can’t.”

Lisa looked horrified and heartbroken, and Chase could smell the tears she was about to start crying, so he turned and walked away.  He could hear her crying before he reached the end of the hallway.  As he turned the corner, Chase became aware of another person and he looked up to find Shadow staring at him.  They stood for a moment, looking at each other, then Shadow simply opened his arms.

Chase let his friend pull him into a tight hug.

“I’m sorry,” Shadow whispered.

“Me too,” Chase said.  He breathed in and stepped back, “Thanks.”

“Not a problem,” Shadow said, and Chase knew he was thinking of the times when Chase had given him the self same supporting hug.  “Listen, I found out what Potter was up to.”

“Yeah?”  Chase said.

Shadow grinned, “He’s forming a Bardic band, probably to do rituals, almost certainly to fight.  He wants me, you, Hannah Abbot and a Ravenclaw girl named Luna to be a part of it.”

Chase ran a hand through his head, “That’s it?”

“That’s it.”  Shadow said.

“I guess it was stupid of me to think Remus would say something,” Chase said.

“I don’t think Remus knew,” Shadow said after a moment.  “I mean, he would have said something about it if he actually did.”

“Right, don’t mind me,” Chase said.

“So, Potter has a meet up with one of his other chosen people, Longbottom, on Sunday in the practice rooms, want to come?”  Shadow offered.

“Sure,” Chase said.

“It’s after lunch,” Shadow said, “so I’ll see you then.”

“See you then,” Chase replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I decided to link Chase and Shadow together for a specific reason. First, before I forget, Shadow's song is by Simple Plan and it's called "This Song Saved My Life". Chase's song is also by Simple Plan and is called "Try".
> 
> Now, I hinted early on that I was considering crossing this over with a TV show called Teen Wolf in the sequel. I decided that yes I was going to do that and this chapter is the first one that emphasizes that future crossover. While Remus is the same werewolf we know from the HP series, Chase and Shadow are not. Remus-type werewolves were born of a curse created by a ritual gone wrong performed by a Shadow type werewolf. The Shadow and Chase type have three "ranks", Alpha, Beta, and Omega. Omegas are feral, lacking the stability of the pack, often fighting themselves to devolve into actual human eating. Betas are the most numerous type, they have the ability to grow fangs and claws and these wicked sideburns. Alphas are stronger than betas, and are the only ones who can create additional werewolves. That ritual I mentioned was created by an Omega trying to become an Alpha without the usual method (that is, killing another Alpha and stealing the power). The curse created some trade-offs, the cursed wolves became more resilient to wolfsbane and mountain ash (both of which are used to restrain, weaken, or even kill werewolves) but they have developed an allergy to silver in it's stead. The cursed are able to turn humans into werewolves when they're shifted, but can only shift during the full moon. The cursed don't have to develop anchors and self-control, but lack all control on the full moon itself. The cursed are sterile, but anyone they bite becomes a werewolf (provided their injuries aren't too severe) the other type has a seventy/thirty chance for new werewolves. One fact is that an Alpha can bite one of the cursed and break the curse, converting them to a beta instead. No cursed werewolf will die of the bite. I didn't mark this as a crossover because it's not. I've referenced the Argents from Teen Wolf, but that's more to establish some of Remus's history than anything. The next story features time travel and is a crossover. If this is something you're not comfortable with, I'll be sorry to see you go, but if you're willing to stick around, I welcome it.
> 
> Thanks for reading ya'll!


	17. Luna

Peace descended on the castle in the hour before curfew.  Luna enjoyed it because of the freedom it gave her to wonder the halls unobserved.  She had come to Hogwarts hoping to find friends, people who would share not only her love of learning but the thirst for a quest where the learning on the way as much the treasure as what lay at the end of the journey.  Instead, she’d been ridiculed for innocent belief in her father’s stories, bullied for her interest in magical creatures, and cruelly nicknamed Looney.  Luna would never admit it now, but there were times when she wished that her housemates would ignore and overlook her instead of singling her out for negative attention.

Until that day, Luna avoided the common room, left her most precious treasures at home, and spent her time creating new stories to reference and new creatures to talk about when her housemates started in on her.  It amused her to watch them react to her increasingly wilder stories, it was sad that so many of children of Rowena were unable to adapt to a free thinker.

Only a small number of her housemates had ever shown themselves willing to try to adapt to her way of thinking.  Chase Travers was the best of the lot, not only listening to her, but also asking intelligent questions and he’d even proposed a few new ideas for her.

While it was nice to be around Chase, to have a space where she wasn’t a target, she wasn’t sure she trusted him to be a friend.

Chase might have been decent, but he couldn’t control his friends, and his friends were quick to establish motives for him, telling Luna that Chase was using her, or was making fun of her behind her back.

Luna turned a corridor in the hallway and found Harry Potter coming towards her.

“Hello Harry,” Luna said.

Harry jumped, dropping a red and white cloth.  “Uh Luna, sorry, I was just…”

“Wrackspurts,” Luna announced, watching him.  “They can make your head go fuzzy.”

Harry grinned at her, “Somehow, I’m not surprised.”  He bent over to pick up the cloth, and Luna noticed that the back of his hand was covered in bloody cuts.  “Hey Luna,” Harry said, “May I ask you something?”

“You may,” Luna said.

“Well,” Harry hesitated, “I’m a Bard, and I did a spell to see who had compatible gifts for a ritual group.  The spell showed me you.”

“I know,” Luna said.

“I was wondering why, I mean, are you in Ginny’s year?”  Harry said, fiddling with the bloody cloth.

“I was born in September,” Luna said, “I turned fifteen then.”

“Oh,” Harry said, “like Hermione.”  He nodded and looked at his hand, “Also, I was, I was wondering if you’d like to join the group.  We’re having our first big meeting on Sunday after lunch.”

Luna smiled at Harry, “I would like to be there.”

Harry smiled back at her.

“Meow.”

The pair turned to find Mrs. Norris regarding them.

“We should go,” Harry said.  “I just wanted to say, Luna, if you need anything, you can always ask me.”

“Thank you Harry,” Luna said.  “Sleep well, don’t let the Toldmover bite!”  She turned and headed to the Ravenclaw dorms.

///…\\\\\///…\\\\\///…\\\\\

After his shower the next morning, Harry wandered into the dorm room while tying his tie.  Ron was perched on his bed, reading a book.  “Still working on history?”  Harry asked.

Ron glanced up, and blushed, “No, I gave my essay to Hermione to look over last night.  This is one of those Animagus books Remus recommended.”

Harry grinned, “Finally found something you like reading?”

Ron shrugged, “It’s better than A History of Magic, that’s for sure.”

Harry grabbed his book bag and checked inside for the day’s work.  Then he looked over at Ron, “Hey, can I ask a favor?”

“Sure, any time,” Ron said.

“I’ll have to check with the group,” Harry said, “but I really don’t want Umbridge to stumble over us and find out my gift, or anyone else’s.  I was wondering if you’d be willing to stand watch for us.”

“How?”  Ron asked.

“I don’t know, I thought maybe you could sit in the room and watch the map and listen us.  I mean, Lisa says that an audience brings a special edge to a performance.”  Harry said.  “You’d have the cloak too, and if Umbridge shows up.”

“Right,” Ron said, “That’s brilliant, but I agree that you should ask first.  Are the Slytherins going to be there?”

“Not this week,” Harry said.  “It’s just too much of a risk, what with Malfoy hanging around.”

“You know everything he sees gets back to You-Know-Who in a heartbeat,” Ron said.

“You and I both know it,” Harry said.  His stomach growled.

“Let’s go,” Ron said, “Hermione’s probably waiting.”

“Right behind you, Ron,” Harry said.

///…\\\\\///…\\\\\///…\\\\\

Sirius took the letter from the owl with a trembling hand.  He’d checked the letter for spells, and found nothing, but there was a great deal riding on that piece of parchment.  He confirmed that it was from Madame Bones before he broke the seal and opened the envelope.  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then pulled the letter out.

 

_Rialóir Sirius Orion Black,_

_A grave miscarriage of justice has come to the attention of the Dept. of Magical Law Enforcement.  We have no records of your trial or conviction, only a single report for your arrest and an order to send you to Azkaban, signed by my predecessor Bartimus Crouch, and counter-signed by Minister Bagnold._

_At this time, the former kiss on sight order has been rescinded and we request you contact the department.  We are reopening the investigation into the events of 1 November, 1980 and need your testimony to clear up certain matters._

_I can understand if your treatment at the hands of the Ministry has left you wary of our motives, Rialóir, and so suggest that your preliminary statement be made in a place of your choosing.  There are places in our world where you may go and be granted safety, as I am sure you know.  Simply contact us at your convenience, and we will strive to accommodate your needs._

_Sincerely,_

_Amelia Bones_

_Department of Magical Law Enforcement_

Sirius closed his eyes and put the letter down on the table.

Remus wrapped his arms around Sirius and drew him up and into a hug.  “We’re almost there,” Remus whispered as Sirius buried his head in the space been Remus’s neck and shoulder.  “We’re almost there.”

Sirius gripped Remus’s waste and sobbed.  _He was almost free._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure there are other songs you might pick for Luna, but I've been struck with the imagery conveyed by Taylor Swift's "Shake it Off". I mean, it's a great song, and it kind of fits her.
> 
> The Ron thing was inspired by my attempts to include Harry's regular friends despite the lack of inspiration for them.


	18. Hannah

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is going to sound weird, but Hannah's like the youngest of the group. Unlike the others she's had no tragedies or horrors forcing her to grow up before her time. It's a bit difficult for me to write Hannah now. She'll have her moment to grow up in Part Two though.

Ron watched Harry prowl around the dorm room, alternating between looking at a well folded parchment and staring out the darkened window.  Harry had come up to the room early, claiming he had some reading to do before bed.  Ron had entrusted his history essay to Hermione’s editing skills and had followed.  There was an open book sitting on Harry’s bed, but Ron doubted Harry had actually read any of it.

“Want to talk about it?”  Ron asked when Harry had made another circuit of the room.

Harry jumped, arms flailing as he turned to Ron.  “Blood hell Ron, I forgot you were there.”

“You were thinking pretty hard,” Ron pointed out.

“Well,” Harry said slowly.

Ron tapped the chessboard beside him, “Come play some chess.  Bill says that sometimes when you think too hard, you stop thinking at all.”

Harry grinned and sat down on the edge of Ron’s bed as Ron slid the board closer to him.  As they settled down, Ron took a moment to be relieved.  There was always a month or two after Harry left the Dursleys where smiles were rare and laughter nonexistent.  Sirius had helped this year, along with Harry’s new friends, but it took time.  Ginny had commented once that it was as if Harry had to relearn how to be happy.

After they had played for a bit, Harry sighed, “Voldemort isn’t going to ignore me forever.”

Ron shuddered, “No.”

“And getting this group together, it could be what we need to defeat him,” Harry said.

“It could be,” Ron said.  He wished for a moment that he had the same gift as Harry, that he could be a part of things the way Harry’s band would.  Then he reminded himself of what Remus had told him, that Harry needed him just as much, if not more than the others.  It was different for them, but he was no less important than they were.

“We’re having our big meeting this Sunday,” Harry continued, “everyone but the reptiles, that is.”

“It’ll go well,” Ron said, “you know that.  They wouldn’t be coming if they didn’t believe you about everything.”

“I know,” Harry said, “but will they be willing to fight.  It’s one thing to believe me about him being back, and another entirely to be willing to fight him.”

Ron shook his head, “I think they’ll fight.”

“If Umbridge doesn’t catch us,” Harry said dryly.

Ron blinked, “All she can do is put them in detention, and then the families will protest.”

“Will they?”  Harry asked, “Fay hasn’t heard anything back from her letters.”

Ron shrugged, “Maybe it’s just taking time.”

“And in the meantime, there’s nobody to curb Umbridge,” Harry said.  “It wouldn’t be so bad if I wasn’t involved, or if we could hide in plain sight.”

Ron blinked, “Hey, maybe we could.”

“What do you mean?”  Harry asked.

“We’ve been using the map to keep from getting caught by the toad, right?”  Ron said, “I mean, otherwise you’d never get to talk to _him._ ”  He glanced at Harry, but saw no sign of understanding.  “Take the map with you on Sunday.  Watch the corridors.  You can get out before she gets there.”

“I can’t watch the map and sing at the same time,” Harry said, “and what if I can’t get out.”

Ron frowned for a moment, staring at the board.  “What if I was there?  No, I mean, if they say its okay and all.  But put me there, and _I_ can watch the map.  In fact, give me the cloak too.  _You’re_ the one Umbridge is hunting, right?  If she comes to check out the room, you and I can hide under the cloak before she gets there, and all she’ll do is surprise a group doing gift exercises in the training rooms, all perfectly legal and above board.”

“Ron,” Harry said, “that’s amazing.  It’s perfect.  Everybody knows Umbridge is targeting me, they shouldn’t…  I’ll have to ask of course, but even if they don’t want you in there we can figure out something.”

“Good,” Ron said, “checkmate.”

“You magnificent bastard,” Harry said, “You totally distracted me that time.”

They laughed.

///…\\\\\///…\\\\\

After four years in Hogwarts, the social groups in Hannah Abbot’s year had become almost as solid as the castle.  Except for dating, it was nearly impossible to make new friends at the start of fifth year.  Therefore, when Harry Potter joined Shadow in Herbology, followed by Hermione and Ron, it was only the distance of the greenhouses to the castle that held off the rumors.

Shadow had paled when Harry had stepped up beside him, but nodded when Potter had whispered something.

“What’s that all about,” Susan asked as they planted flaming roses.

“I don’t know,” Hannah said, pouring more dirt in her current pot.

“Maybe they’re dating,” Caitlyn offered, “pass the trowel please.”

“I thought Harry and Ron,” Brittney objected as she handed over the trowel.

After the Second Task, rumors about Harry’s relationship with Ron were more varied and wide spread than any other couple in Hogwarts with the exception of the persistent rumors about Dumbledore and McGonagall.

Hannah shook her head and Susan snorted, “Dean Thomas told me that Ron wasn’t interested.  He’s girls only.”

“What about Harry?”  Caitlyn asked.

“Good question,” Hannah said as she glanced over at the Trio and a blushing Shadow.  “I almost hope they are dating though.  Shadow’s had a crush on Harry for years.”

“I’ll say,” Caitlyn said with a giggle, “Pass the fertilizer.”

After class, Hannah watched as Harry and Ron parted ways with Hermione.

“We’re not.”

Hannah jumped and turned to find Shadow standing beside her.  “I’m sorry?”

“Har- Potter and I,” Shadow said, “we’re not dating.”

“Oh,” Hannah said.

Shadow smiled a little as he toyed with the stamped leather choker he wore.  “We share a gift, is all.  Potter’s inviting a few of us to a group session this weekend and asked me to extend you an invitation.”

“How did he know?”  Hannah asked.

Shadow shrugged, “That’s not my secret to tell.  I simply offered to extend the invitation.”

Hannah glanced up at the castle to see that Harry was watching.  He nodded when he saw her looking, then headed inside.  Mind made up, Hannah turned to Shadow, “When and where?”

“Sunday, in the practice rooms off the library,” Shadow replied.

“I’ll see you then,” Hannah said.

“Until then,” Shadow said and headed up to the castle.

Hannah watched him for a moment, then realized she was the only person still outside.  She hitched her bag up her shoulder and began to jog up to the castle.  She was supposed to meet Susan in the library after Susan finished speaking to Professor Sprout.  If Susan beat her to the library then she would worry.

Susan was standing outside the library when Hannah got there.

“Sorry,” Hannah panted, “Shadow had a question for me.”

“It’s okay,” Susan said, “I just got here myself.”

“Susan, Hannah!”  Justin shouted as he ran towards them waving a sheet of paper.  “Special edition of the Prophet, look!”

Susan took the paper from him and opened it.

**_SIRIUS BLACK INNOCENT!_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hannah's song is All About That Bass by Meghan Trainor, and I may or may not have recast Hannah in my head AS Meghan.
> 
> (Listen here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7PCkvCPvDXk)


	19. First Meeting

Neville hovered outside the door to the room Harry had picked out.  Fay, Chase, Luna, and Hannah were already inside talking quietly.  Shadow and Harry were late.  Neville probably should have waited inside, but he was reluctant.  He didn’t know anyone in there but Fay, and he didn’t know Fay all that well either.  Fay and her friend Sophie had been exclusive from the Sorting and Neville had been the shy loner caught between two sets of strong friends.  Perhaps Neville would have befriended Hermione, but before he had gotten the courage up, there was a troll and the Golden Trio was born.

A cheerful giggle had Neville glancing into the room nervously.  Hannah was sitting on the table at the front of the room, leaning towards Fay and Luna with a bright smile.  Light fell on her hair, bringing up golden highlights and giving her an angelic appearance.

“Neville?”

Neville started and turned to find Harry and Shadow approaching, with Ron a few steps behind.

“Hi Harry,” Neville said.  “Everyone’s already here.”

Harry bit his lip and nodded, “Let’s go in, then.”

Ron lingered by the door as Neville followed Harry and Shadow inside.  “Hi Harry,” Chase said, slinging an arm over Shadow’s shoulders.  “Having trouble?”

Harry shrugged, “Professor Umbridge was watching me.  We had to take a longer path than originally planned.”

“We?”  Chase asked, looking at Shadow.

Harry sighed, “Look, it’s no secret that Umbridge has it out for me.  I don’t want her to know about my gift, okay?  So, Ron helped me come up with some suggestions.  He’s outside, waiting.  We have a plan B, but plan A is for him to keep watch in here.”

“How?”  Hannah asked.

“With this,” Harry said, pulling a piece of parchment out of his pocket and his wand.  He unfolded the parchment and tapped it with his wand.  _“I solemnly swear I am up to no good.”_

Neville leaned over, trying to get a look as Harry put the parchment on the desk.

“ _Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs are proud to present the Marauders’ Map,”_ Chase read.  “Is this Hogwarts?”

“Yup,” Harry said, “every room the Marauders ever explored, and it shows where people are.  Every person.  The map can’t be fooled by any disguise I know of.”

“This is amazing,” Chase said, “did you make it?”

“No, my dad did,” Harry replied.  “His nickname was Prongs, because he was a stag animagus.”

“And the others?”  Hannah asked.

“Sirius is Padfoot, and Remus, Professor Lupin, they called him Moony.”

“What about Wormtail?”  Hannah asked.

Harry clenched his fist, “He’s not a Marauder.  He’s the reason my parents are dead.”  He stood for a moment, glaring at the desk angrily.  “Anyways, because Umbridge is hunting me, and I can’t watch the map and practice, I wanted to ask Ron to watch the map.”

“Weasley?”  Chase said.

“He knows some of you,” Harry said, “but I trust Ron to keep what he knows to himself.”

Neville nodded, “I’m okay with it.  Ron’s good at keeping your secrets, Harry.”

“I agree,” Shadow said.  He blushed when everyone looked at him, “I don’t like Umbridge and prefer to avoid her when possible.”

“I’m okay with it,” Luna said with a sweet smile, “I like Ron.”

Hannah nodded, “Me too.”

Chase sighed, “All right, Potter.”

“Harry,” Harry said firmly as Ron stepped in the room and closed the door.  “Call me Harry while we’re here.  Out there, you can call me Potter if you want.”

Chase nodded slightly.

Harry stepped around the desk, pausing for a moment to exchange a long look with Ron, who smiled encouragingly.  Then he turned to look at them, “I’m sure you’re all wondering why I asked all of you to join me.”  He moved into the group, looking at each of them, “How I knew you all had the Bardic Gift.  The answer is simple and obvious.  My family has a spell, one that not only can determine who has the Bardic Gift, but of those so Gifted, who has sympathetic magic.”  He stopped to rest his hand on Neville’s arm.  “The Potters didn’t invent this spell, no.  The Potter Bard, a younger brother of the _rialóir_ of the time, learned it from another.  The intent is to assist in the creation of a Bardic Circle to allow for the creation of rituals and spells that are stronger and more permanent than a single Bard can do.”

“And we were all identified by your spell?”  Chase asked.

“Yes, but you weren’t the only ones,” Harry said, looking nervous.  “There are two others, and it’s unwise for me to approach them openly in the current climate.”

“Please tell me it’s not Malfoy,” Fay said.

Harry laughed, “Not in this life time, Fay; although they are Slytherins.”

“Who?”  Hannah asked.

“Tracy Davis and Blaise Zabini,” Harry said after a moment.

Neville glanced over to where Shadow and Chase stood.  Chase had his arm around Shadow’s shoulders again, and he was leaning over, whispering to Shadow.  Shadow was staring at the floor head tilted towards Chase.  After a moment, he nodded and looked up, frowning when he saw Neville.  Neville glanced back at Harry.

“You don’t seem surprised,” Chase said.

“Me?”  Neville asked, “Uh, no, not really.  Harry talked about it with me before.  I told him I was in for the long haul, and I’m not deserting him now.”

“There’s more,” Harry said.  “This, I’m not doing this for fun.  You all have the option to quit; all I’d need from you is your word on your silence.  If you choose to stay, you’ll have to know that this, what I’m putting together, it’s to fight Voldemort.  He’s back and people are already dead.  He’s going to come after me, that’s a given.  I’m not going to back down, and if I can, I’ll take the fight to him.”  He hesitated a moment, looking at Ron, and then Neville before the rest of the group, “I can’t win on my own though.  When he was a wraith, possessing others to survive?  I could stop him, send him away.  Last year in the graveyard?  There was no skill involved in my escape.  If that cup hadn’t brought me back, there would have been two bodies that day.  I’m not- not skilled enough, strong enough.  I don’t know enough.  Voldemort has education and experience on his side.”

“And you think a half dozen half-trained Bards will be enough?”  Chase asked sharply.

“No,” Harry said, “but there’s a way we can be stronger.  Gringotts has ways to allow the Gifted to be trained fast, if there’s need.”

“Time travel,” Shadow said.

“Yes,” Harry said.  “Time, the one thing we don’t have, but we can get.  Time to train, to practice, to become more than just nine half-trained Bards.”

Neville nodded.  He’d heard this from Harry, had helped him find the right way to phrase it as much as Hermione and Ron had.  “I’m with you, Harry.”

“Thanks Nev,” Harry replied with a grateful smile.

“I’m in,” Fay said.

“I’m in,” Luna said, almost overlapping Fay.  When everyone looked at her, Luna stared back.  “Voldemort is dangerous and must be stopped.”  She blinked and smiled dreamily, “Unless we get a group of Vain Spotters to kill him, it has to be people like us.”

Neville wanted to know what a Vain Spotter was, but Chase cleared his throat first.  “I’m in,” he said.  “I am so in, you don’t even know.  I don’t know about time travel, but you’ve got me.”

Shadow nodded, “I’m in too.”

They all looked at Hannah, who was biting her lip and fidgeting.  “I don’t know,” she said slowly.  “I’m not a fighter.”

“No, but you are a Bard,” Harry said, “and you are fifteen.  I’m not asking you to charge in, cursing flying Hannah.  I’m asking you to help me find a way to beat Voldemort, some way to keep him from coming back again, ever.  If fate is kind, you’ll never have to face a battlefield.  Not everyone’s made that way.”

Hannah nodded, “I- I could help you look.  The Abbots, we’ve been Bards almost as long as the Potters.”

Harry held his hand out, and when Hannah took it, he bowed and kissed it with a flirty smile.  “Welcome aboard, Ms Abbot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter! I've officially set an end number of chapters here for 24, that's FIVE MORE CHAPTERS! Mostly they're handwritten and I just need to polish and type them up. There's a possibility of more chapters, but I've written the ending by hand, so it'll only be because something I've explored has come out a bit different than originally anticipated.


	20. Defense Troubles

Tracy liked the idea of Slytherin, a place to meet political or business allies, learn the dirt on your rivals, and create a platform from which to launch your future career.  The reality was falling far short of the ideal, much to Tracy’s disappointment.  With the advancement of Blood Purity and the Dark Lord’s fear tactics, Slytherins had fallen far from the lofty heights.

Not that modern Slytherins would admit it.

“Of course my father told the Minister,” Malfoy was saying as they entered the Defense classroom.  Tracy cut away from the other girls to join Blaise at the back of “their” side of the classroom, allowing the girls to form a screen between them and the boys of Slytherin.

Draco Malfoy was, in Tracy’s experience, the epitome of all the negatives of Slytherin, a boy who was in need of some serious retraining.  It was only the knowledge that Lucious Malfoy was a dangerous man in all ways that had stayed many hands over the years.  Any other lower classman who tried Draco’s stunts would have been quickly corrected, usually in a painful manner.  The one time a sixth year had tried to curb the then first year Malfoy’s arrogance, the sixth year had found his older brother dismissed from his job at the Ministry and his father’s promotion denied.  No one had tried to correct Malfoy ever since.

“Potter’s staring again,” Blaise muttered.

Tracy glanced up at the dark haired boy for a moment, then turned back to digging for her textbook.  “Ten sickles, he gets detention.”

“Bet, Blaise said. “  Double or nothing he talks to us today.”

“Bet,” Tracy replied.

“Mister Potter,” Umbridge said suddenly, “what are you wearing?”

“My uniform?”  Potter guessed after a moment.

“Mister Potter,” Umbridge said.

“What?  Did the twins prank me again?  I knew giving them a book of fairy tales was a bad idea,” Potter said earnestly.

“I meant that,” Umbridge pointed at something Tracy couldn’t make out.

“It’s a family heirloom, Professor,” Potter said quietly.

“Really, Mister Potter,” Umbridge said, “You expect me to believe that a piece of leather is a family heirloom.”

“It’s a Gift modulator,” Harry said calmly.  “My great-grandmother made it.”

Tracy peered over Mildred’s shoulder at the nasty smile on Umbridge’s face and shuddered.    
“You are lying,” Umbridge announced.  “Hand it over, Hogwarts does have a dress code.”

“I’m not lying,” Harry said, “I have the provenance in my room.”

“I said to hand it over,” Umbridge said.  “Two night’s detention, Mister Potter.”

“You can’t,” Harry said, “It’s-“

“That is not a family heirloom,” Umbridge said, “It is a dirty piece of leather.  Give it here.”

Harry hesitated a moment longer, glaring at her, then he handed over a thick cuff of braided leather Tracy had seen him wearing all year.  “When can I get it back?”

Umbridge took cuff between two fingertips and dropped it on the floor.  “Five days detention, Mister Potter.”  She drew her wand and pointed at the cuff, “Incendio.”

In the silence that followed, Harry dropped his bag on the teacher’s desk and dug around in it for a moment.

“Sit down, Mister Potter,” Umbridge said.

Harry looked at her for a moment, and then pulled out a wooden box.  When he flipped it open, the Potter crest was visible, worked in silver.  He lifted something out of the box before putting it in his bag.  It took a moment before Tracy could see what Potter had pulled out.  It was a glove made of black wire and set with emeralds.  It was one of the most ostentatious Gift modulators Tracy had ever seen outside of a vault and as Harry pulled it on, he glared defiantly at Umbridge.

Once the glove was on, Harry strode to take his seat between Hermione and Ron.  
It was, Tracy thought, one of the most blatant declarations of war she’d ever seen, even by Potter standards.

  
///…\\\\\///…\\\\\///…\\\\\

After one of the tensest Defense classes yet, Tracy headed for the library to work on a history assignment.  Almost as soon as she was out of sight of the Defense classroom, she found herself walking beside Chase Travers from Ravenclaw.  She glanced over at him for a moment with raised eyebrows, but he shook his head slightly.

After a few more twists and turns, Chase sighed, “So, Harry asked me to speak with you.”

“Okay,” Tracy said neutrally.

“He said that his guardian spoke with your parents about you taking part in the Circle?”  Chase said after a moment.

“They did,” Tracy said.

“Okay, well,” Chase hesitated, “Harry would like to invite you to a meeting of the Circle tonight at half past seven in the practice rooms outside the library.  He’s inviting Blaise as well.”

Tracy nodded, but chose not to say anything.

“He asked me to tell you that he would like to speak with you personally before the meeting begins to explain a few things,” Chase said.

Tracy glanced at Chase again, “I would be happy to meet with him.”

“Thank you,” Chase said.  “Harry’s nervous about putting you in a bad position within your house, or he would be here speaking to you personally.”

“Please tell Harry not to worry about it,” Tracy said.  “I understand completely.”

Chase smiled at her, a quick, brilliant flash of white teeth.  “Then I’ll see you at the meeting.”

“Until then,” Tracy replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the length, but it suited Tracy at Hogwarts. Her song is Blank Space by Taylor Swift. (Either the original, or the acapella version by Backtrack Vocals).
> 
> Harry's new accessory looks rather punk or something. It's basically a wire base with green emeralds, but I can't remember the search terms I used to find said inspiration (and I'm not bored enough to try.) Just picture it as being elegant but punk or something.


	21. Full Circle

“Hey Hermione,” Harry said softly, peering around the corner of a library shelf.

Hermione glance up from her Arithmancy textbook and smiled, “Hi Harry.  Did you need something?”

Harry shrugged as he slid into the seat across from her, “I’m just… worried.”

“What’s wrong?”  Hermione asked, marking her place and closing the book.

“It’s the first full meeting,” Harry said, “they’re _all_ going to be there, and after Defense today.”

“Harry, you’ll do fine,” Hermione said, reaching over to grip his forearm.  “As for today, well, I know that there were a number of impressed people there today.”

“But, I completely lost it,” Harry said.

“Harry, you’re a great leader and an even better friend.  Trust me when I say that everything will be fine.”

Harry dropped his head on the table with a thud.  He was still and silent for a moment.  “Ow.”  He sat back up and rubbed his forehead.

Hermione laughed softly, “Good job, Harry.  Now, according to my watch, you’re supposed to meet _them_ in five minutes.  Straighten your shirt and get going.”

“Hermione,” Harry whined.

“Never say my name like that again,” Hermione said, and flicked him on the nose.  “There’s a reason I’m an only child.”  She opened her book and picked up her quill.

After a moment, Harry sighed and left.

///…\\\\\///…\\\\\///…\\\\\

The room fell silent, drawing Chase out of his contemplation of the song book.  Harry had produced the books at their last meeting, they were filled with Christmas carols at the moment, but Harry had claimed they could be expanded and such so that they could add different songs as they went on.

For now, the arrival of the Slytherin duo was more interesting than the books.

Tracy Davis stood just inside the door, head high and shoulders squared.  Blaise Zabini stood behind and slightly to her right, also with his head high.

When nobody moved, Chase closed his songbook and stood up.  “Welcome to the Circle,” he said, stepping forward.  “Harry isn’t here just yet, obviously, but you’re welcome to take a seat.”

Tracy smiled at him tightly, “We just saw him.  He said he’d be just a moment.”

“All right,” Chase said.  He nodded, “I see you’ve gotten the songbooks already, can you read music?”

“I can,” Tracy said, “Blaise can’t.”

Chase nodded slightly, “Well, we’ll all be glad to help you learn, Blaise.”

When the Slytherin jerked, Chase smiled at him, “We have a first names only rule here.  Harry started it.  Out there, you can call us whatever you feel compelled to, but in here we’re friends.  Or we hope to be friends.”

Blaise nodded and Tracy smirked, “We’ll see about that, Chase.”

“Sorry I’m late,” Harry said, “excuse me, Blaise.”  Blaise moved out of the way and Harry walked in, pulling the door closed.  “Everybody’s here?  Good.”

“Shouldn’t you be in detention?”  Fay asked.

Harry grinned, “It’s fine.  We live in the morning, after all.  Besides, it’s not like she’s going to finish out the year at Hogwarts.”

“What does that mean?”  Chase asked.

“Well, is it, or is it not illegal to destroy a family heirloom if the device is magical, especially a gift modulator?”  Harry said.  “I’ll get to that in a moment.  I don’t want us interrupted at all.  Blaise, Tracy, why don’t you two grab a seat.”

Chase took his own seat and watched as Harry pulled of the black wire glove.  He then pressed his hands to the door.

Silence fell for a long moment, then Harry began to sing.

_“Early each day, to the steps of St Paul’s_

_The little old bird-woman comes.”_

Chase shivered at the haunting melody.  He _liked_ Mary Poppins, but Harry’s voice turned an already unique song into something eerie even before the power began to surround them.

Motion caught Chase’s eye and he glanced over to find Luna dancing in slow circles with a soft smile.  Neville was leaning on the music stand in front of him, eyes wide.  Shadow had his head down on the desk, but he looked up for a moment as if he felt Chase’s eyes on him.  The young beta’s eyes were glowing gold.

Tracy and Blaise looked stunned, they were holding hands and watching Harry.

Song finished, Harry turned to look at them, pulling the glove on absently.  He frowned, “What?”

Chase blinked and shook himself, “Sorry.  That was… amazing.”

“Beautiful,” Luna said.  “You have a nice voice, Harry.”

Harry smiled, “Thank you Luna.”

“What song was that?”  Blaise asked, his voice hoarse.

“Feed the Birds,” Harry said, “from Mary Poppins.”

“What’s Mary Poppins?”  Tracy asked.

“It’s a story,” Harry said, he hesitated, “the song’s from the movie.”

“You have a powerful gift,” Tracy said after a moment, “I wasn’t really expecting that.”

Harry grinned, “We’re all powerful, Tracy Davies.  We just have to find the right outlet.”  After a moment he jumped, “All right, so, songbooks yes.  Everyone has one.  Blaise, what do you sing?”

“I’m sorry?”  Blaise asked.

“Like are you a baritone, tenor, what?”  Chase said.

“I, uh,” Blaise swallowed, “I don’t rightly know.  I’ve never really been into music really.”

Harry chuckled, “You aren’t the only one.  I nearly jumped out of my skin when I started folding laundry with a whistle.”

“I set my bed on fire,” Chase said.

“I made the greenhouse bloom,” Neville said, “We thought I had a plant gift until the goblins corrected us.”

“I sent my whole family to sleep trying to get my little sister to take a nap,” Hannah offered.

Fay shrugged, “Nothing special, I was doing music practice and created an illusion of the story.  It was about Robin Hood.”

“That’s what I did,” Tracy said, glancing over at Fay nervously.  Fay just grinned warmly back at her.

Shadow cleared his throat nervously, “I made my cousin’s dolls dance.  We were watching Sound of Music and singing along.”

“I don’t think I’ve seen that,” Harry said, frowning.

“I have,” Fay said, “its Sophie’s favorite musical.”

Harry nodded slightly, “Well, anyways, we’ll figure out where you fit Blaise.”  He gave the teen a warm smile, “just like everyone else.  Do you sing at all?”

Blaise shook his head.  “No, I- I’ve never been interested.  I thought I’d get Mum’s gift for spell creation, not- not my dad’s Bardic Gift.”

Chase wondered what Blaise wasn’t saying.  His heart was beating faster, but not skipping like a lie would.  He glanced over at Shadow, who was watching Blaise intently, eyes back to their normal shade of black.  Shadow glanced at him for a moment, smirked a little, and then looked back at Blaise.

“What about you Tracy?”  Harry asked.

“I studied piano and vocals,” Tracy said, “Mum’s family throws a Bard every other generation or so, which means we all study music until we’re fifteen.  I’ll help Blaise with sheet reading.”

“Thank you,” Blaise said quietly.

“Well,” Harry fidgeted for a moment, “I was thinking- um, maybe we could sing a bit?  Since we’re all here for once.  I mean, I know we’re all going to, uh, meet up at Gringotts in two days, but.”

“Let’s do it,” Chase said.  “Something easy.”

“Oh, Jingle Bells,” Fay said.  “Surely we all know Jingle Bells?”

“I do,” Blaise offered.

“Then would you lead off Blaise,” Harry said, “so we can hear your voice.”

“Right,” Blaise said.

There was silence for a moment, and then Blaise began to sing.  He was clearly uncertain, but his voice was a clear tenor that rolled through the room not unlike Harry’s had before.  Harry joined in quickly and Chase followed with another glance at Shadow.

When everyone was singing, there was a feeling, not unlike a joint snapping to place, an almost audible click, and then he could _feel_ it, that indefinable something that made them stronger together.  It was like the full moon, when he ran with his pack, an electric thrum of feedback that ripped through all of them.  Chase was glad he was sitting down, or he would have staggered like Harry did.

There was no discussion really, just Tracy holding up the songbook to page five, but they were singing Good King Wenceslas and it was just as good, just as perfect.  Chase knew that whatever else was coming, they were going to be strong enough to handle it, together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently I fail at things. I forgot entirely about Hermione's Gift, because she's awesome and deserves one. Short version, it's spell creation. We'll explore that more thoroughly in P3.


	22. Back to Headquarters

Harry jerked awake screaming.  Ron was shaking his shoulder and when he sat up, Neville shoved his glasses on his face.

“What’s wrong?”  Ron asked.

Harry trembled as his dream flooded his mind, the feel of his teeth sinking into human flesh.  “I- I have to speak to Dumbledore,” he said and threw off his covers.

Ron nodded and tossed Harry his robe, “Let’s go.”

Harry shrugged his robe on and shoved his feet into his slippers, hissing in annoyance when his sleeve caught on the emerald and wire glove.

As he freed the sleeve, Harry remembered Remus’s warning.

_“This glove is an overt statement of power.  It will help your control, but it won’t help your Occlumency.  If you sleep with it on, Voldemort may access your mind.”_

Harry followed Ron into the common room to find McGonagall waiting for them.

“Mister Potter,” McGonagall began.

“Professor, please, I need to speak to Professor Dumbledore,” Harry interrupted her.  “It’s my- my Gift.”  He touched his scar lightly.  “He needs to know.”

McGonagall nodded sharply, “Come, Mister Potter.”

“Ron, you too,” Harry said.  He wanted to be the one to tell Ron what he’d seen.

Ron glanced nervously at McGonagall but followed.

They hurried to the stone gargoyle, with McGonagall calling out “Fizzing Whizbees” without breaking stride.

“Harry, Ron began as they climbed the stairs.

“I- I can only say this once,” Harry said, “and- Ron, I’m sorry.”

McGonagall opened the door and led the way inside.

Professor Dumbledore sat at his desk with a stack f papers before him.

“Can I help you Professor?”  Dumbledore asked.

“Mister Potter asked to speak with you,” McGonagall said.

“Please,” Harry cut in, stepping forward quickly.  “I had one of those dreams, it was about Mister Weasley.  I saw him- he’s been attacked and he’s badly hurt.  I don’t know- it was a corridor and there was a door at the end of it.”

Dumbledore nodded and rose to his feet, issuing orders to McGonagall and the portraits.  As soon as he sat down and the room quieted, Dumbledore turned to Harry.  “How did you see this?  Remus told me you had an Occlumency training device.”

“It was damaged,” Harry hedged.

“You mean Umbridge destroyed it,” Ron said firmly.  “She didn’t believe it was a training device.”

Harry nodded jerkily and held up his gloved hand, “I have this, but it doesn’t have the Occlumency protection.  I was hoping to get to Gringotts and replace the other when he left for the holidays.”  He lowered his hand, “I am doing the exercises for Occlumency, Remus gave me book to read about it, but I’ve been having trouble with the meditation part of it.”

“Dumbledore nodded, “This is the first dream you’ve had?”

“Yes sir,” Harry replied, “but I only lost the bracelet yesterday.”

“Do you know how Arthur was attacked?”  Dumbledore asked.

Harry gave Ron an apologetic look, “It was Voldemort’s snake, sir.  She bit him in the side.”

Ron made a funny whistling sound and sat down.

“Albus, Arthur’s at St Mungos,” one of the portraits announced, “He seems to be stable but critical.”

“My great nephew invites the Weasleys and Harry to the townhouse for the holidays,” Phineas announced, “He awaits their arrival.”

The office door banged open and Ginny stumbled in, followed by the twins.  McGonagall followed, levitating a stack of trunks.

“How’s dad?”  Ginny asked, edging close to Ron.

“Alive, but injured,” Harry said.

Ginny gave a strangled sob and buried her face in Ron’s shoulder, as he pulled her into a hug.

“What are we going to do sir?”  Fred asked.

“You four will portkey to headquarters,” Dumbledore said, “to await your mother’s summons to St Mungos.  Harry will assist me with a task and then follow you there.”

“Of course,” Harry said.

Dumbledore handed over a quill, “Simply say Phoenix whenever everyone is touching the portkey.”

Harry watched them vanish.

“Now then,” Dumbledore said, “when Mrs. Weasley tells us that St Mungos has contacted her, Harry, you will floo to the Burrow with your trunk.  Then we will send through the other trunks, one at a time.”

“I don’t understand,” Harry said.

“The Hogwarts floo is monitored,” Dumbledore said, “we need a record of floo travel between Hogwarts and the Burrow.  By sending their trunks to the Burrow, there will be a record of travel after Mrs. Weasley has contacted us.”

“What do I do?”  Harry asked.

“Pull the trunks from the fireplace,” Dumbledore said, “then you may floo to Headquarters.  Sirius will send a House Elf to collect the trunks.”

“Headmaster!”

Molly’s head had appeared in the fireplace.

“Word from St Mungo’s?”  Dumbledore asked.

“Yes Headmaster.”

“I’ve sent your children to Headquarters, Sirius invited you for the holidays, I believe.”

“Yes,” Molly said, “I’d better go.”

“Give Arthur my best,” Dumbledore said.

“I will, thank you,” Molly said and vanished.

“Now Harry,” Dumbledore said, “to reach Headquarters from the Burrow, you must say Black Townhome.”

“I’ll remember,” Harry said.

“Harry, about your Occlumency,” Dumbledore began.

“Remus is teaching me,” Harry said, “it’s directed self-study.  It’s not fast, but up until my study device was destroyed, it was working.  I should go, Sirius and Remus will worry.”

“Of course,” Dumbledore said.

Harry dragged his trunk over to the fireplace and smiled at his headmaster, “Happy Christmas, sir.”

“Happy Christmas,” Dumbledore replied.

///…\\\\\///…\\\\\///…\\\\\

Harry had barely cleared the fireplace before he found himself pulled into a hug by Sirius.

“Hey Padfoot,” Harry mumbled, trying not to yawn as he leaned into his godfather.

“Are you okay?”  Sirius asked with a final squeeze.

“Just tired,” Harry said, smiling, “my dreams were weird before Nagini showed up.”

“Do you want to go to bed?”  Sirius asked.

Harry shook his head, and then blinked as the room titled a bit, “Not really.  I wish we could go to Gringotts now.”

“Unfortunately, we can’t.”  Sirius said, “We could practice meditation though.”

Harry hesitated, torn between the comfort of not moving and the knowledge that he needed meditation.  Then he sighed, “Let’s meditate.”

Sirius gave him another hug, “Let’s go up to the den.”

“Right,” Harry said, then shook his head slightly, “Sorry, the trunks, they’re still at the Burrow.”

“Okay,” Sirius said, “I’ve got that.  Dobby!”

“Yes, Mister Sirius?”  Dobby asked, “Mister Harry Potter sir!  Hello!”

“Hey Dobby,” Harry said, smiling at the elf.

“Dobby,” Sirius said, “Harry and the Weasley’s trunks are at the burrow, please bring them here.”

“Yes Mister Sirius,” Dobby said.

“They’re in the living room,” Harry offered.

“Yes, Harry Potter sir,” Dobby said and vanished.

“Come on Harry,” Sirius said, he put his arm around Harry’s shoulders and steered him up to the den.  “Have you read the Animagus guide?”

“Yes,” Harry said as they cleared the floor.  “It sounds like something we can do.  Ron’s actually reading the Guide now.”

Sirius settled on the floor and patted the spot beside him.  “Sit here, I’m glad you’re all excited about it.”

“I think it’s going to be amazing,” Harry said as he sat down tailor style.  He closed his eyes and began to breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clarify: Yes, this is Harry's dream about Nagini attacking Arthur outside the door to the DoM.


	23. Last Day

Harry wok up on the floor with Padfoot sprawled out beside him. 

“Good morning Harry.”

Harry turned to stare at Ginny, who was learning over the back of the couch.

“Good morning,” Harry managed.  He stood up unsteadily.

“Winkey’s making breakfast,” Ginny said, “Mum sent a note that she’ll be back for lunch.  Dad’s still alive, but his injuries are bad, so we can’t go to St Mungo’s today.”

“Ok,” Harry said, blinking and trying to get his brain working.

“That’s good,” Sirius said, “I need to take Harry to Gringotts today, Remus will be with us but Bill, Tonks, and Shack will stay here.”

“All right,” Ginny said, “See you at breakfast.”

Harry smiled a little, then jumped when Sirius cleared his throat, “In case you’re wondering, you fell asleep during mediation last night.  I didn’t have the heart to wake you up.”

“Oh,” Harry said as he flexed his hand, watching the jewels reflect the gaslight.  “I have marks from this on my face, don’t I?”

“Yes,” Sirius said.

“Ron thinks it’s funny when that happens,” Harry said, “He never admits it.”  He yawned and stretched, “I need a shower.”

“Let me show you to your room,” Sirius said, “we’ve redecorated a bit.”

“Okay,” Harry said and followed Sirius upstairs.

While the lower two floors were still dark and a bit dingy, the upper three floors now had light hardwood flowers, and the paneling on the walls had been whitewashed.  The third floor, where Harry had stayed with Ron over the summer, had light blue paint over the paneling and the doors were now painted white.  The fourth floor, with the library, had green paint.  The fifth floor, where Sirius led him, had yellow paint over the white paneling.

To the left of the staircase was a half-opened door with two silver paw prints edged in black.  The right hand door had a piece of paper with HJP written on it.

“That’s your room,” Sirius said, “Moony and I thought you could decide what to put on the door yourself.”

“Okay,” Harry said.

“Before you go in,” Sirius said, resting his hand on the knob, “you should know that we decided to leave a lot of this plain so that you can make it your room.  This will always be your room.  No one will ever take it from you, no matter what.  Most of the furniture can be changed out, although that bed will be more trouble than it’s worth, I swear, but if you want something else, we’ll get you something else.”

“Okay,” Harry said nervously.

Sirius smiled, “Now go take a look.”  He pushed the door open.

The room beyond was huge.  The walls were painted a light blue with white trim.  T the left was a gigantic bed with white and tan coverings.

“That bed is huge,” Harry said as he approached it.

“There are steps,” Sirius said as he followed him.  It’s been in the Black family for generations.  When the townhome was built and made the _Rialóir’s_ seat, the bed was placed here and it’s never left.  It’s meant to have curtains, but having them will be your own decision.”

Harry nodded as he turned.  The other half of the room was set up as a sitting area with a giant couch, armchairs, and a bookshelf.

“There’s a bathroom too,” Sirius said, “just through that door and past the closet.”

Harry nodded.

“I’ll leave you to get changed,” Sirius said.

Dressed for the day, Harry found his way down to the dining room, which had been repainted a cream color with dark wood molding.  It looked much better than the dark and imposing room Harry remembered from the summer.

Ginny and Ron were sitting at the table with Remus, Bill, and Tonks.

“Good morning,” Harry said as he sat down beside Ron.

“Morning,” Ron said around a mouthful of bacon.

“Good morning,” Bill said, “sleep well?”

“Yes,” Harry said as he began to fill his plate with eggs and sausage, “no more visions.”

“May I ask?”  Bill said carefully.

“I’d rather not,” Harry said softly, staring at his plate.

“Leave it,” Remus said shortly.  “Albus has already indicated he wants to speak with Harry about what happened.  Harry doesn’t need to go over it repeatedly.”

“Right, sorry,” Bill said.

Harry smiled shyly, “It’s all right Bill.  I’m glad that Mister Weasley’s going to be all right.”

“Would Mister Harry Potter like some pancakes?”

Harry glanced down to find Winkey standing beside him.  “Good morning, Winkey.”

“Good morning,” Winkey said.

“I would like three pancakes,” Harry said, remembering her question.  “Is there any milk?”

“I will bring it,” Winkey said, “we have chocolate, plain, and strawberry.”

“Strawberry milk, please,” Harry said.

“Yes sir, Mister Harry Potter.”  Winkey bowed and vanished.

“So,” Tonks said, “what are the plans for today?”

“Sirius and I are taking Harry to Gringotts,” Remus said, “and a few other places, I think.”

Harry bit his lip and glanced at Ron, “Can Ron come?”  He asked.  “Please?”  Everyone looked at him and Harry flinched.  “It’s just, tomorrow and, well.”  He’d planned to have just Ron and Hermione sit with him on the train, had gotten Neville to agree to help him keep peace.  He was going to spend hours with his best friends before leaving.  Now, he wasn’t even going to be saying goodbye to Hermione at all.

Remus glanced at Bill, “Well?”

“Gringotts and where else?”  Bill asked.

“Bookstore, clothes shop, a few other stops,” Remus said.  “Some last minute shopping is all.”

“Please Bill,” Ron said.

Bill eyed Ron for a moment, and then looked at Remus, “You’re sure he won’t be any trouble?”

“None at all,” Remus replied.

“As long as Sirius agrees,” Bill said.

Harry grabbed Ron’s arm, “Let’s go ask him!”

“Ask who what?”  Sirius asked as he walked in.

“Can Ron go with us, please?”  Harry said, turning to stare at Sirius.

Sirius glanced at Ron, then at Bill, “You’re okay with this?”

“Sure,” Bill said, “I’m okay with it.  We won’t be seeing Dad until tomorrow at the earliest; it’ll do good for Ron to keep his mind off things.  Mum will understand.”

Sirius looked back at Harry and held his hands up, “It’s all right with me.”

“Yes,” Harry said as he grinned at Ron.

“As long as you finish breakfast, Harry,” Sirius added, “you look like you’ve lost weight.”

“I grew two inches and gained five pounds,” Harry protested.

“All that weight went into the height,” Remus said, “so you need to eat.”

Harry slumped down in his chair and picked up his fork, “Okay.”

Sirius gripped his shoulder, “Don’t worry Harry.  Gringotts isn’t going to vanish while you eat.”


	24. December, 2010

They met the next day in a large, elegant room at Gringotts.  It had a round table in the middle of the room with several chairs around it.  Harry had just sat down when the door opened and a nervous looking Chase Travers came in, followed by a silent goblin.

“Hey Chase,” Harry said, bouncing to his feet.

“Hi Harry,” Chase said.  “Professor Lupin.”

“Mister Travers,” Remus said, amused.  “You can call me Remus now; I’m not your Professor anymore.”

“Then you can call me Chase,” Chase replied.  He turned to Sirius looking even more nervous, “Rialóir Black.”

“Cousin,” Sirius said solemnly, then he grinned, “How is Marius?”

Chase smiled, “Dad’s fine.  Complaining about the weather mostly.  It’s been hard for him to go fishing.”

Harry frowned at the two and Sirius glanced at him, “Are you all right?”

“A little confused,” Harry said and sat back down.

“Didn’t I…”  Sirius trailed off, and then grimaced, “Oh, I must have forgotten.  Chase’s father is my second cousin, Marius.  He’s a squib, so I hadn’t seen him in years.  My predecessor wasn’t a tolerant man.”

“Dad took Mum’s name when they married,” Chase offered, “He’s a sheep farmer now, and mom’s family is non-magical.  Heather and I were a surprise, considering we have two sisters who are completely non-magical.”

Harry nodded as the door opened again, this time with Tracy and Blaise, followed by a tall, thin, nervous man who had the same reddish tinge to his dark brown hair that Tracy had.

“Mister Davis,” Sirius said with a nod.

“Rialóir Black, Oidhre Potter,” Davis said with a jerky bow.

There was silence for a moment, “Was there something you needed?”  Sirius asked.

“I was- was wondering, you never said, forward or back?”  Davis said, fidgeting his hands.

“We will be going forward,” Sirius replied, “there’s too much temptation in going back.”

Davis glanced at Harry and nodded, “I see.”

Tracy hugged her dad, “It’s just like Hogwarts, yeah?”

“Right,” Davis said, hugging her tightly before stepping back.  He looked at Blaise and nodded, “Blaise.”

Blaise nodded, “I won’t promise to keep her out of trouble, sir.  I will help her get out of it though.”

Davis smiled, “Knowing my daughter, that’s all I could ask.”  He turned, “Bobbins!”

A House Elf in a dark blue toga appeared, “Yes master?”

“Bring Tracy and Blaise’s trunks,” Davis ordered.

“In the corner with ours,” Sirius said quickly.

“You head him.”  Davis said.  The Elf bowed and vanished.  Davis turned to Tracy, “I’ll be in the Alley when you get back.”

“Of course,” Tracy said.

A harsh cough pulled everyone’s attention to the door.  A tall man, Harry thought he was almost two meters tall.  The man had a predatory air and moved into the room like a graceful cat.  There was something about the way he stared at Harry that made part of Harry want to duck under the table, but Harry refused to give in to that instinct and met the man’s eyes firmly.

Chase made a cut off sound and Harry glanced over to find Chase carefully backing up.  Remus was standing very still beside Sirius, head slightly tilted.

Shadow stepped around the man and Harry shook his head slightly, “Hi Shadow, glad you could make it.”

Shadow gave him a tight smile, “Thanks for inviting me.  This is my uncle.”

The man snapped something in Spanish before reaching over to squeeze the back of Shadow’s neck.  Shadow replied with a shy smile, causing the man to turn and stare at Harry again.  Then he ruffled Shadow’s hair and stalked out.

The room was silent for a long moment before Chase whistled as he came to stand beside Harry.  “Damn, Big Bad, if he’s like that _now.”_

“He’s not that bad,” Shadow said, “and please don’t call me that.”

“Guy’s got to have a hobby,” Chase said with a shrug.

A chorus of giggles preceded the arrival of Fay, Hannah, and Luna, who walked into the room bright smiles and flushed cheeks.  “Hi Harry,” Fay said cheerfully as she pulled a knitted cap off her head.  “Neville’s going to be a few minutes.  Dowager Longbottom is eviscerating a reporter.”

“She’s taking his will to live,” Luna said with a smile as she pulled off her gloves.

“Definitely,” Hannah agreed as she pulled off her jacket, “and he deserved it.”

“Oh?”  Harry asked.

“He was asking about you,” Fay said, “like he was angling for a new ‘crazy Harry’ story.”

“Remus,” Sirius said.

“I’m on it,” Remus replied, heading for the door.

After a long moment of uneasy silence, Harry began to hum Jingle Bells.  Fay laughed and joined in on the first verse.  After a moment or two, the others joined in, grinning as they took seats around the table.

Harry relaxed as they sang, letting his voice blend with the others.  He watched as Mister Davies relaxed, as Sirius grinned as him.  They ended and Harry launched into _Do You Hear What I Hear_ after a four count, and right on cue, Neville walked in to pick up the bass line.

The whole group applauded Neville as he took his place at the table, sitting down as they started _Good King Wenceslas,_ creating the same click of _rightness_ that had appeared at their last meeting.  They were more than nine voices in that moment, they were a Circle, and the power of that Circle was a heady promise.

Harry signaled the others to end it after the song was over, and the room fell into silence.  Then Chase and Fay both laughed as Harry stood up with a smile, “Thank you,” he told them.

“Harry, we should be thanking you,” Luna said.

Harry shrugged as he stood up and moved to join Sirius to face the Dowager Longbottom.

“Madame Longbottom,” Sirius said with a bow.

“Rialóir Black, Oidhre Potter,” Madame Longbottom said.  “I am pleased that you have accepted Neville into your Circle.”

Harry smiled at her, “There isn’t another bass at Hogwarts I’d want.”

“We _chose_ Neville,” Chase said firmly.

Sirius cleared his throat as Remus came in the room.  “We need to get ready, everyone.  We’ll be back in an hour.”

Goodbyes were said as Remus pulled Sirius over to the side and began to whisper in his ear.  Harry sat back and watched as they moved around the room.  The others began to find seats after a few moments, with Tracy giving her father a final hug.

Then the door was shut and Sirius cleared his throat as he sat down with Remus, “The spell will activate in thirty seconds, I recommend we all stay seated until the door is opened again.”

“Is everything all right?”  Harry asked, looking between them.

“It’s fine,” Sirius said, “nothing to worry about until we get back.”

The lights in the room dimmed for a moment and the table began to vibrate.  A low humming filled the room, making Chase, Shadow, and Remus to cover their ears.

Then everything went still.

A moment later, the door swung open and a woman entered.  She was tall, with long black hair in an elegant twist and a bright small.  “Greetings, _rialóir, oidhre,_ and Bards.  It is December 17, 2010, and I am Wendy Dunbar, one of your guides to your new life.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thus we end Not of Blood Part 1, with our Circle safely in the future. Part 2 will begin in a few weeks, as I may have promised a friend I'd finish a different fanfic for her.
> 
> Questions and comments are welcome.
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> PS: Find me on Tumblr: http://guardian-of-hope.tumblr.com/


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